


Brujerìa

by julesbeauchamp



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Brujeria, F/M, Modern AU, Witches, jamie x claire, witch!claire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-07-15 23:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16073714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesbeauchamp/pseuds/julesbeauchamp
Summary: Being a witch was a detail Claire Beauchamp omitted to tell people. She was determined to live her life as normally as possible and she was doing a pretty good job of it. At least until her meeting with a stranger sent her life into a spiral and revealed secrets about her past she never suspected.





	1. The Reluctant Witch

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, this will be a multi-part story about a topic I always wanted to write about --> Claire, the witch.  
> Let me know what you thought of the prologue and I'll be back soon with the first chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy <3

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp lived most of her life in the shadows –  cast by her parents’ murder when she was only one year old, too young to understand. Many things had been said about that fateful night, many things she never knew to be true…except for the one about her survival. She had been in that house, in that room, in her mother’s arms and yet, she had lived. Claire refused to be defined by that awful event but she couldn’t escape it: the scar on her arm burned sometimes, for no reason other than to remind her she was one of them.

_All of them witches._

Tales written, whispered over the years – from their origins to their demises. Unanswered questions, perpetual interrogations. They existed since the beginning of time, as powerful as the fire, destroying everything, even themselves until there was only a handful of them left – they were among mortals but where exactly? Were they even real? Or just legends created to scare children and to make them behave? No pointy hats, flying brooms or magic wands, just powers.

Claire knew exactly what she was. She had learnt it one morning, at just six years old. Like every day, she was drinking her glass of milk at the kitchen table with Lambert, her uncle and legal guardian, when suddenly, she had been staring at the glass a little too intensely and it started to levitate in front of her.

Lamb knew the day would eventually come, the day he would have to explain to her exactly what she was and at six years old, telling a little girl she was a witch brings only one reaction:  _curiosity_.

 

> _“Claire, you can’t talk about it, do you understand?” Lamb seemed visibly worried and Claire simply nodded, trying to hide the excitement his revelation was causing her._
> 
> _“But why?” She wondered, examining her hands – usually in books, witches used their hands to cast spells._
> 
> _“I will explain it to you one day, I promise but for now, you will swear to me you won’t tell anyone and you won’t use your wee tricks in front of people.”_
> 
> _Nodding, she stared at the glass of milk once more and let it levitate again before Lamb grabbed it and put it back on the table, making her chuckle._
> 
> _“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp!” He said seriously._
> 
> _“Sorry,” She mumbled looking down, her curls hiding her mischievous smile._

If it weren’t for photographs, Claire wouldn’t remember her parents. The memories of her mother’s lullabies or her father’s kisses were forgotten – as if they had never happened. The sound of their voices, the smell of their clothes, the unconditional love they had for her…everything disappeared on that rainy November evening, twenty-five years ago. For everyone, it had been a badly turned robbery that left the young couple dead while their daughter miraculously survived – or maybe she had been spared by the monsters who didn’t think to kill a child was worth it. The truth was far more complicated than that.

If it weren’t for pictures, Claire wouldn’t know she had the same whisky coloured eyes as her mother and the same bone structure as her father. She wouldn’t know her hair was thick and curly just like Julia’s and her smile identical to Henry’s. If it wasn’t for her uncle, Claire wouldn’t have known her parents died because of what they were and what they had done. Even though she suspected it, she never dared to open the pandora’s box.

Claire tried to live her life as normally as possible— she had decided one day not to use her gift. No spells, no incantations, nothing. She refused to be a witch, she saw no point for it, anyway. She was a professor of English literature, a lover of archaeology and a master of botany. She owned a black cat, named Adso – a stereotype of a witch, she thought when she adopted him — and she lived in a cosy and spacious apartment in the hearts of old town in Edinburgh that Lamb had purchased when they moved to the city years ago.

Most mornings were spent trying to tame her curls before rushing out of the house with a slice of toast in hand not to be late for class, except on Thursdays. No class, no rush. She liked to wake up early, just to stay in bed for a while and read, with warm coffee running down her throat, warming her to the bones while petting Adso asleep next to her. Around ten, she would get up and get ready, then, she would leave the house and take a walk through the city. She was born in Oxfordshire and the few times she went back, she didn’t feel at home. Every corner was packed with blurred memories and painful details – her parents’ gravestones were not a joyful sight, either.

Scotland was a breath of fresh air to her system and she loved the energy of the city. Tourists mixed with locals, hidden alleys, walls full of history – there was also the deep pull she felt for it – something she couldn’t explain but who brought her here and prevented her to leave.

_Not like she had anywhere else to go._

*********

One single decision can alter your entire life. Changing a tiny detail in your routine can cause consequences that will follow you for the rest of your days but it wasn’t something Claire thought about too much – she knew life was unexpected and fate was stronger than the supernatural – simply put, that foggy September morning, when she entered the second-hand bookstore, hidden in a far-off road near the Royal Mile, she didn’t think much would change in her life but she had been so wrong.

Claire didn’t know why the need to walk in had been so strong, it possessed her and she didn’t care, she needed to go inside. It was like a siren call to a sailor —but those never ended well.

It looked like a treasure hut with countless books gracing the wooden shelves. Jazz was softly playing off the record player on the counter and the scent of patchouli mixed with old paper took residence in her nostrils.

_To Claire, it was what heaven looked like._

“Can I help ye, Mistress?” The voice was deep and low, but full of kindness and the thick Scottish accent was the first thing she noticed – not that it would be unusual given she was in Scotland but there was something about it – something clutching her soul.

The second thing she noticed was the deep blue eyes carefully observing her – they were the colour of the ocean and she was reminded how scared she had been of water when she was a child. A fear that had slowly disappeared when she realised she could perfectly breathe underwater one summer in Italy. “I’m…I’m just looking, thank you.”

“Aye, of course,” The scot’s mouth curled up into a smile hearing her accent, but there was something odd about his expression – as if he was as curious about her as she was about him,  “Just let me know if I can be of service.”

“I will, thank you,” Claire returned the smile, and started to wander through the shop. She could feel his eyes on her, the heat rose to her cheeks and her palms began to sweat.

“Are ye lookin’ for somethin’ in particular?” The Scot inquired, standing arm crossed behind the counter.  

“No but I’ve never found a book I didn’t like so I’m sure I’ll get something eventually,” Looking over her shoulder at him, she smiled. He had the physique of an 18th-century warrior, broad shoulders and tall, very tall, with thick, wavy red hair and slanted, cat-like blue eyes. His jaw was squared and his smile beautiful.  Claire felt safe in his presence, and yet, there was also something frightening about the man.

“Are you alright?” She asked, worried at his sudden change of expression. His eyes had dropped to the floor and sweat was forming on his forehead. He seemed fevery, “You do look a bit pale.”

“I just feel a wee bit dizzy is all, dinna fash,” The Scot rubbed his temple slowly.

“Do you have a headache?” It was absurd but Claire worried for him as if she had known him all her life.

Without hesitation, she walked over to the tall man and reached for his face, and touched his forehead. It was burning but as soon as their skin touched, everything around the Scot went pitch black and he fainted.


	2. Bewitched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the love on the prologue! I hope you'll enjoy chapter 1 just as much <3

Claire had always lived with her scar all her life.  _The_   _scar_.  

Her daily reminder of the night her parents died. She had been marked, by what? She didn’t know. But it was there, on the curve of her shoulder, the flesh red, swollen and warm. It didn’t burn often, but when it did, it made her want to rip off the skin of her arm.

It was burning now but she ignored it. She knelt down next to a giant scot unconscious on the floor, his eyes twitching slightly. Thankfully, he came back to himself quickly but the absence of colour on his face kept her worried, “Oh God, I thought you were dead.”

“Christ,” he mumbled, running his hand over his face, “I think I’ve bumped my head.”

“You have,” She sighed, resting a hand on his chest to prevent him from getting up – his wool sweater was thick but there was a warmth emanating from him, “Don’t move, I’llget you some ice.”

“There’s some in the wee kitchen in the back…” The scot hadn’t finished his sentence and  Claire was already up on her feet, on her way to the kitchen. It was indeed  _wee_  but it had some ice in the freezer. 

Wrapping it in a towel, she walked back towards the man and handed it to him,  “Don’t faint on me again.”

“Tis’ not really something I can control,” He chuckled softly, pressing the ice to his head.

“That is true but try it anyway” She smiled and crossed her arms. 

“What’s your name?” Claire asked, trying to ignore the electricity going through her veins as his eyes observed her. She felt like a painting in a museum look at by a connoisseur.

“James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser,” he said in one breath and got up slowly before sitting down on a stool.  

“If you can remember all of those, I think you must be alright,” She grinned, “Just keep the ice on your head for a bit longer and I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Thank ye, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled, watching her, “Are ye a doctor?”

“Oh no,” She smiled, rubbing the fabric of her sweater over her arm, it burnt but she had to ignore it like she was ignoring the attraction she was feeling towards the scot – _it was intoxicating._  

“I’m a professor,” Claire answered, swallowing. 

“Let me guess, it must be literature or history?”

“Literature,” She rose her eyebrows at his perspicacity, “But now I’m curious to exactly why you thought that in the first place?”

“Weel, ye walked into my wee bookshop so it means ye are either a tourist or a bookworm and as the look of ye, I went wi’ the second option,” He started, his words making her mouth curl up into a smile, “Then, I noticed yer satchel, aye I agree it might be stereotyping but it looks exactly like the one of a professor, worn and well loved, wi’ the leather fading.”

“You are a keen observer, Mr Fraser,” She remarked, amused.

“Aye, tis’ because I have wee glasses, ken,” Smiling, he adjusted the round frames on his nose.

“I ken,” Claire repeated with a terrible Scottish accent, making him laugh. There was something about this man drawing her closer – his magnetism, his deep blue eyes cutting through her like daggers, his smile…

“Ye dinna tell me yer name, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled.

“It’s Claire…Claire Beauchamp” She didn’t know exactly why she was always afraid to say her name out loud, probably because of the ghosts it brought with it and the memories attached to it but it didn’t seem to ring any bells for Jamie.

“Nice to meet ye, Claire,” He smiled and put the ice on the table, “And thank ye for taking care of my head, my godfather says it’s as thick as a rock because I always used to bump it into things as a kid.”

“Are you sure you are feeling alright? You fainted after all…” Claire pointed out to him even if he seemed perfectly normal now, “Do you have some dizziness or nausea?”

Jamie shook his head softly, “Nay, I truly do feel fine Sassenach, I promise.”

Claire nodded, her eyes fixed on the tall scot, “Just go to the doctor if you don’t okay?”

“Aye, I will but dinna fash…Would ye like a cup of tea? That’s the least I can offer ye and a free book,” He smiled.

Claire was touched by his gesture and accepted the tea offer – after all, she didn’t want to go just yet, there was something about James Fraser she found comforting, “Thank you for such a lovely offer.”

Jamie got up from his stool and went to make the tea without a word. Claire decided to finally take a look around the library, a place she never suspected existed in the dark alley, until today. The first thing she noticed was the rarity of the books – some were first editions she had never seen before, others were very old and carefully wrapped in plastic to prevent further deterioration.

Claire had been in love with books since the moment she had been able to read. When she couldn’t sleep at night because of her nightmares, she would go and hide in Lamb’s office to read until she fell asleep on his leather chair. In the mornings, she would always wake up in bed, with the book carefully placed on her bedside table and the memory of Lamb’s lips on her forehead. Literature had been a natural path to follow when it came the time to choose a major and her job fulfilled her lonely days more than she would admit.

Claire always relied on touch – when she was in a library or in a store, she would close her eyes and let her fingers wander on the spines – the feel of materials and lettering on her fingers, deciding for her what her next read would be.  _She never chose a book, it chose her._

“Tea’s ready, Sassenach,” Jamie announced happily, making his way back into the shop with a tray filled with two steaming mugs and some biscuits. She found the nickname for her amusing given she had spent most of her life living in Scotland.

Claire opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him, “You have the most amazing selection of books, I’ve never even seen some of those editions,” She said with an awed expression.

“Aye, sourcing is my favourite part of the job, I could spend hours finding a gem and the thrill ye get from it is like nothing else. Coming from a connoisseur, I take it as a compliment.” He nodded his head slightly to her.

“I also had no idea this shop existed, I never walk past here usually and even when I have, I must have completely missed it,” Claire sat down on the stool next to Jamie and let her hand rest on the warm porcelain of the mug. She could feel it burn but it didn’t hurt – it never did.

“I’ve been open for two years now, I admit it’s not the most visible place and, in the beginning, I was afraid no one would ever walk through the door but slowly word of mouth did its job and it’s going well now.”

“I’ll be sure to come back more often now that I know you’re here,” The words escaped her mouth quicker than she had intended and blushed as she realised how it sounded, “I mean…now that I know you have such a great selection of books.”

He laughed softly, meeting her eye, “Aye, please do, Sassenach, I’m sure ye can find some treasures around.”

“I have a box full of books my uncle used to own that I don’t really know what to do with, are you interested in buying too?”

Jamie nodded, taking a bite of shortbread, “Aye, always. I trust it must be a good selection.”

“Oh yeah, mostly supernatural things and old editions, I’m just not interested in that kind of stuff.” After Lambert’s death, Claire carefully removed all the books about the witches’ history from their library and packed everything in a box she had stored in the attic and never touched it again. It would be a good occasion to get rid of it once and for all.

“Really? Aye bring it over and I’ll have a look, I’m sure I’ll even find some things I’d love to read myself,” Jamie smiled, his eyes lingering on her lips for a tad too long and she noticed, “I’m verra fond of the supernatural.”

Claire only returned the smile and sipped her tea, burning the tip of her tongue. If only the scot knew what she really was – he probably wouldn’t believe her and after all, she didn’t identify as a witch either, she never had. “I’ll make sure to bring it over sometime next week.”

“Aye please do, I’ll be here,” Jamie smiled.

“Now, tell me a little bit more about you…Were you born in Edinburgh?”

“Och no, I was born in the Highlands somewhere called Lallybroch,” Jamie said with nostalgia. “But I grew up here in the city wi’ my godfather, Murtagh, my parents’…” he took a breath, and Claire saw a sadness in his eyes, “They died when I was a wee bairn, not much more than one.”

“I’m sorry Jamie,” Claire wanted to reach and touch his hand for comfort – she understood all too well the feeling of losing parents at a young age –  but she was also aware he had fainted the second she had touched his forehead and was careful not to do it again.

“Thank ye, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled softly. “Tis’ weird because I dinna remember my parents and aye, I feel grief but I canna explain it, I also feel this distance between us…it’s as if they never existed.”

Claire looked at him for a long moment, her whisky eyes working her magic on the Scot. She didn’t know it then but he was falling and falling hard. 

“I know what you mean…I lost my parents at a young age too,” She never talked about that night but with him, it was so easy to open up, ‘What happened to them? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It was a car accident,” He said softly, “What about ye, Sassenach?”

“It was…that too,” She lied and finished the rest of her tea in one sip, hoping her glass face wouldn’t give her away. She would eventually tell him one day if they become friends…or more, but she wasn’t ready to go into it just now and it was the same lie she always told people when they asked.

In Oxfordshire, the Beauchamp’s murder had made the headlines but she hoped it didn’t travel as far as Scotland,“I totally understand what you mean when you talk about a sort of disconnect, I love my parents, I always did and I always will but there is something about them I can’t grasp, without photographs or my uncle’s tales, I wouldn’t remember them at all,” Claire admitted with a hint of shame. 

“Aye, tis’ exactly that. Sometimes I feel guilty of it,” he shrugged his shoulders as if his shirt were too tight.

“I know what you mean,” She said softly, her eyes drifting down to her hands.

 She knew all too well the feeling of guilt. Sometimes, it suffocated her in the middle of the night or during the day without warning. It would creep slowly and grasp at her neck like two strong hands too powerful to retrieve so she didn’t bother to try, instead, she let the air escape her lungs and waited until the day guilt would finally kill her.

“I dinna mean to make ye sad, Claire.” His voice was barely a whisper but it was the most comforting thing in the world. She looked up again then, and something shiny in his eyes notified her he was the most gentle creature she had ever met.

_Her eyes also drifted to his lips and oh, how much she wanted to kiss them…_

“No, I’m sorry, it’s never an easy topic to talk about and I rarely do so I am always a bit shaken when it happens. It has nothing to do with you, Jamie,” Claire smiled sincerely and for a quick second, forgot what happened before. She reached out and touched his arm. Jamie didn’t faint this time but the burning sensation she experienced – as if she put her hand through a flame and left it there to burn made her jerk her hand away instantly, “Oh!”

“Christ Claire!” Jamie got up at once, worried “Are ye alright?!”

“Yes… just please don’t touch me,” Claire said at once, looking at her hand. Her veins were a deep blue colour shining through her porcelain skin but nothing else looked out of the ordinary, it felt burnt but didn’t look it.

Jamie looked confused but did as he was told and didn’t try to touch her.

“Did you…feel it too? When I touched you,” She looked at him, “The burning?”

“Aye,” He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “The first time too, before I fainted. What do ye think it means?”

“I don’t know,” Claire said sincerely. She had never experienced something like it before, usually, even if her hands bore magic, it couldn’t reach nor damage others just by a simple touch, “I’m sorry Jamie but I have to go…”

“Wait, no,” Jamie almost grabbed her hand but she took it away before their skin would touch again, “Promise me ye’ll be back…”

“I need to go, I really do,” Claire whispered, grabbing her satchel.

“Promise me ye will,” The begging in his voice was as present as the sadness due to her impending departure.

“I promise,” She answered and disappeared quickly through the door and into the dark alley, leaving the Scot under her spell.

*********

The apothecary was also hidden in a dark alley but it was so familiar to Claire, she had no issue finding it – even as shaken by what just happened in the bookstore as she was. Her attraction to Jamie had been instantaneous as if she had known him forever, she had been with men before and never did a touch cause such pain throughout her body. She needed to know why and she knew exactly who to ask.

“ _Madonna_ ,” Raymond said affectionately the second she had walked through the narrow door. With a wide smile on his face, the Frenchman walked over to her and gave her a warm embrace.

“Claire, what’s bothering you?” He frowned, noticing her distressed state.

“Something weird just happened to me,” She said softly, still trying to wrap her mind around it all and the tingling of her hand a reminder of it.

Raymond had been a family friend for years, even before Claire came into the world. As Lamb’s best friend and lover, he had been there for the joy and tragedies of the Beauchamp family. At Lambert’s death, he had been entrusted with Claire’s safety and well being and took his task at heart. As a wizard himself, he knew her secrets – some secrets she was not even aware herself.

In no time, Raymond had locked the door, swapping the “ _Open_ ” sign for the “ _Closed_ ” one and together, they had made their way upstairs to his private apartment.

“Tell me what happened, Madonna,” Raymond sat down on the velvet sofa next to Claire in his crowded living room. So many books, trinkets, plants and other stuffed animals – she always wondered how he had the space for everything.  

“I went into this bookstore randomly near the Royal Mile and I met the owner, Jamie,” She started, her tale was nothing unusual at first. “Charming guy, great book selection but he looked quite pale and weak when I approached him so I thought I would feel his temperature…it was already odd, the need I had to touch the skin of a stranger, I did it without hesitation but the second my fingers brushed his temple, he fainted.”

Raymond listened attentively and frowned, “Is that only it?”

“At first yes. Once he got back to himself we talked around a cup of tea, turns out he lost his parents at a young age as well and you know, I won’t lie to you, there is something going on between us, I don’t know what it is but it’s there.”

Grinning, he nodded, “I quite understood that, yes.”  

Claire smiled, amused – he knew her so well. “When I touched his arm, I felt my hand burning as if…as if I purposely put it through a fire and waited for it to disintegrate. It still tingles now.”

“Does it look burnt?” Raymond reached for her hands and attentively examined them. The hand in question had some redness but nothing alarming, “I have to admit it is quite odd, Madonna and why don’t you wear the ring?”

_The ring:_  a moonstone enveloped in Gold, a family heirloom that belonged to her mother.

She shrugged – she didn’t care for the piece of jewellery, “It’s in my box and I forget to put it on.”

“Madonna, the stone will change colour and tell you when a witch or a wizard from the other side is near you. How many times do I have to say you need to wear it?” Raymond sighed, exasperated. Getting up, he went over his cupboard and took out a little ointment bottle before settling down next to Claire again.

“And I told you I don’t want to have anything to do with magic, I’m not this person and I never want to be.” If there was something to know about Claire Beauchamp, it was how stubborn she was.

“ _Oui_ , I know that too but you can’t deny what you are for the rest of your life,” Carefully, Raymond took her hand and applied a mixture of aloe and honey to soothe the tingling.

Claire leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, “I never chose to be a witch, and I don’t want to be one. We’re not going to go over this again.”

“I’m afraid you have no say in that matter,  _mon poussin_ , you might as well accept it,” Raymond looked at her and sighed. 

Claire opened one eye and looked at him “What does the ring have to do with Jamie anyway?”

“Madonna, the only time I have heard about such a reaction between two people, it was when your father met your mother,”

“No…” Claire sat up at once, looking at Raymond and understanding exactly what he wanted to say.

“Yes,” Raymond said seriously, “I’m afraid your Jamie lad is a wizard, and one from the Dark Circle, at that.”


	3. Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire's attraction for Jamie grows...but so do her suspicions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the love on this story, I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter and I'll be back with the next one very soon!

Claire had lived with nightmares all her life – or at least, as long as she could remember. She dreaded the moments she had to go to bed and succumb to slumber because more times than not, she would wake up in a trance and completely panicked. She had tried Raymond’s remedies,  _Valeriana Officinalis_  combined with a touch of _Humulus Lupulus_ , but even that was not much help. It wasn’t what she could see that distressed her so much  _– blurred images, abstract colours –_   it was what she could hear and what she could feel. The high pitched screams that wouldn’t stop. No matter how much she begged, or tried to wake up, the sensation of her limbs being pulled apart was too strong to escape. **  
**

Waking up suddenly, her t-shirt drenched in sweat, Claire panted and her immediate reaction was to touch her scar. Her room was quiet apart, from Adso purring on the end of the bed, and her head was pounding. The clock on her phone marked 5:57am, it was pointless to try to fall asleep again – not that the idea thrilled her that much anyway.

It had been two weeks since her meeting with Jamie and she didn’t dare go back to the bookshop. Maybe Raymond had been wrong, maybe he wasn’t a wizard and her reaction had been odd for some other reason? In the dark of her room, she could hear the Frenchman’s words again…

_“Madonna, the only time I have heard about such a reaction between two people, it was when your father met your mother.”_

Claire knew her parents were warlocks but she never understood why they had been killed exactly and Lamb had always been vague on the subject.  _“They were at the wrong place, at the wrong time, Claire bear,”_  he had said and she never asked any further questions on the subject. After all, if she ignored the truth about who she was and her powers, maybe her life could be as normal as possible.

_Maybe._

Feeling a furry lump resting on her chest, Claire knew Adso had moved over seeking his morning cuddle. Every day, as soon as he could sense his mistress awake, the cat demanded to be pet and loved until Claire decided to start her day.

Eventually, she decided to get up and made her way to the kitchen. Her apartment wasn’t huge but it was spacious and airy, with huge ceilings and furniture she had kept from Lamb and other pieces she had collected over the years and numerous visits to the flea markets on Saturday mornings.

_It was home._

Tea in one hand and a buttery toast in the other, Claire sat on her beaten Chesterfield, resting her feet on the wooden coffee table full of books. It was too early to wear contacts and she had forgotten her glasses in the bedroom. With one move of her index finger, Claire flew her round frames from her bedroom and let them rest on the tip of her nose— sometimes, she was a witch, but only for practical reasons. Adso rested against her and the sound of his purring mixed with the wind and rain outside made for a comforting sound, wrapped in the warmth and peace of her house.

Claire was often alone but never lonely, yet, she missed Lamb dearly, his sense of humour and his comforting hugs when she was sad. He had been a father, a friend and a teacher, all the things she never realised she needed until he was gone – and the apartment was full of memories of their time spent together here over the years.

No matter where her mind wandered, it always drifted back to Jamie. The feeling she experienced when her eyes first landed on him – she had felt both captured and free. She wanted him, craved him like a primal need but she knew she couldn’t have him. Even more, if it actually turned out he was like her.

_The Dark Circle_  was a legend she remembered reading in one of Lamb’s journals once – the witches descending from those coven were practising of black magic and were evil. Frankly, she couldn’t imagine Jamie as one of them but even more so because there was apparently not a single witch or warlock from  _The Dark Circle_ still alive these days.

After a few hours, Claire was tired of asking herself questions and decided to bring Lamb’s box of books to Jamie, just like she had promised. After all, she would see for herself if he was truly a wizard or if Raymond was going insane. She wore the moonstone ring on a golden chain around her neck, hidden under her cashmere sweater, even if it simply looked like an extravagant piece of jewellery, she couldn’t take the risk of the Scot suspecting something.

**********

Jamie had not stopped thinking about Claire since she had stepped inside his store. Her ivory skin, her whisky eyes, her crazy curls, her round arse…

_Sorcha._

He had never felt so attracted to a woman the way he was to her, she was fascinating and there was not much he could do to try and resist her. She had promised she would be back the following week but she hadn’t and now, two weeks after their first meeting,  _1,209,600 Seconds_ , he was beginning to lose hope she would ever show up again.

The bell notified him of a new customer and Jamie instinctively looked up – he had felt her presence even before he had heard the bell and there she stood, brown curls framing her ivory face and whisky eyes piercing his heart.

“Sassenach,” He said with a smile – thank God, she had come back.

“Hello Jamie,” Claire returned the smile. He could tell there was something worrying her, her glass face giving it all away but he said nothing on the matter and instead, he went to help her with the box she had in her arms.

“Ye’ve come bearing gifs,” He joked, taking the box from her hands, careful not to touch her. He was still well aware of what happened the last time.

“I don’t know about gifts but books for sure, at least,” She grinned and he noticed she too was making sure not to touch him.

“I thought ye’d forgotten me,” He pouted, putting the box on the counter.

“I’m sorry,” Claire said, “I thought I would have the time to come but I got busy with classes and all, I didn’t forget about you, though,” Jamie had hoped as much but he didn’t say it.

“I didn’t forget about ye either, Sassenach,” He said sincerely looking at her. Jamie couldn’t deny the electricity between them, if he could, he’d have her right there on the counter.

“I canna wait to see the books ye brought me. Would ye like some tea?” He added, changing the subject quickly. His crush was showing.

Claire nodded her head, making her mass of curls bounce and smiled, sitting on a stool “Sure, thank you.”

Jamie moved to the tiny kitchen at the back and quickly prepared the tea.

“I haven’t looked inside that box for a long time, but my uncle had the best library I’ve ever come across, I hope you’ll find some interesting things,” Claire said a bit louder for him to hear her over the kettle’s noise.

“Aye, I trust yer judgement Sassenach,” Jamie smiled absently, her voice alone making him happy.

What Jamie didn’t know, while he was busy making tea, was that Claire looked around his shop in search of any clue about his suspected true state while ignoring her hurting scar. When he got back, tray in hand and smiley face, she was back on her stool, unmoved, “How have ye been?”

“Oh good, just busy,” She lied with a smile and took one of the mugs on the tray, “How about you? How’s your head?”

“I have no fainted again if that’s what yer wondering,” Jamie sat down on the vacant stool and took the other mug, warming his fingers on the porcelain. He was certain her skin felt the same way, smooth and boiling – his fingers were taping absently on the mug, aching to touch her.

“And the headache disappeared after I took a shower at home, everything’s good,” He smiled – unaware she was imagining his naked body pressed against hers, both wet under the running water.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jamie noticed she almost reached to touch his hand but stopped herself at the very last second and instead, she smiled and brought her mug to her lips. She seemed almost afraid of him and he didn’t understand why.

“Is somethin’ amiss, Claire? Is it because of what happened last time?” Jamie asked softly, his deep blue eyes fixed on hers. “Because if it is, I’m sorry, I dinna ken what happened when ye touched me, I really dinna…”

“No. Jamie…really everything is alright,” She forced a smile.

Jamie nodded, giving her the impression he believed her even if he didn’t, “Och weel, then let’s see what ye brought me!”

Finishing the rest of his tea in one sip, Jamie got up and opened the box while Claire watched him attentively, “My uncle was an archaeologist and then a professor,” She explained.

“Sounds like a verra interesting fellow yer uncle,” Jamie look at her and smiled.

“Oh yes, he was,” Claire recalled fondly, “I loved hiding in his study when I couldn’t sleep and going through the books. I would imagine myself to be some explorer discovering countries and oceans.”

“I can picture ye, crazy hair and sleepy eyes, hiding under the desk with a flashlight to read until ye would fall asleep,” He grinned and removed the books from the box one by one.

“It was exactly so,” Claire chuckled softly “And I would always wake up in my bed with the book on my bedside table but I’m sure the bookworm you are had the same experiences?”

“Bookworm, eh? I dinna ken where ye get that idea about me,” He grinned, making her laugh again. It was his new favourite sound.

“You must hate books so much to own a shop, right?” Resting her head on her palms, she teased him.

“So much,” His attempt at winking just made her laugh even harder and he shook his head.

“Your wink is quite original, I’ve never seen that before.”

“I’m just challenged at winkin’, tis’ not nice to make fun of me,” He pouted.

“I do apologize,” Claire grinned and got up, making her way towards him to look at the books.

**********

Claire observed him carefully as he examined the various books she had brought. She often forgot how much Lamb’s library was full of treasures and rare books he had collected from his trips in exotic countries before he had settled down to be a professor and to take care of her. She had not touched Jamie since she had arrived and was still careful not to do so but she realised how much she wanted to. There was also nothing odd about his behaviour that could indicate he was indeed a wizard but she knew more than anyone that it was easy to hide powers when you really wanted to.

“Aye, I’m taking them all, Sassenach. It’s truly an exceptional selection,” Jamie looked at her and smiled warmly, “How much do ye want for it all?”

“Oh nothing,” She said sincerely – it was enough for her to get rid of the books.

“I canna accept those for free, Claire,” Jamie interrupted her.

“You’re doing me a huge favour by taking them off my hands, truly, and I wouldn’t even know what to ask for them,” She smiled.

“Then maybe ye would agree to go on a proper coffee date wi’ me this week?” His coy smile was too charming to resist and Claire didn’t.

“We have a deal,” She smiled, knowing full well she shouldn’t be encouraging her attraction.

Jamie’s smile widened, “Sunday at 10 at Urban Angel? Tis’ works for ye?”

“Yup, that’s fine with me,” Claire responded with a smile, rubbing her arm – damn scar.

Silence fell between the two of them and she finally brought herself to look into his eyes _– really look._  Their blue colour almost made her want to drown in them, to let go of everything – fears, guilt, regret – and to love, simply, without asking herself so many questions.

“Claire,” Jamie whispered, his own soul lost and consumed into the warm honey of her eyes. He was a magnet, attracting her, pulling her. She held her arms firmly planted against her body, not to touch him, not to burn but her lips ached for his and the simple sound of his voice saying her name threw her over the edge. She knew if she’d kiss him, she would be lost forever.

She wanted to kiss and to be kissed. Gently at first, increasing slowly to a rough, needy kiss with teeth clashing and tongues dancing together until she would need to catch her breath. She knew it was the kind of kisser he was – she knew and she wanted to be consumed.

His breath caressed her lips, he was so close to her face, his eyes piercing hers, enchanting her. Claire made up her mind and decided to close the little distance they had left between them for their lips to meet but she had no time to, as the shop’s bell rang, pulling them apart at once, without a chance to kiss.

Jamie, whose ears were red as chilli peppers and his fists closed, turned to look at the customers and smiled politely. It was a group of tourists happily snapping pictures of the shop.

Claire looked at him, her cheeks burning and cleared her throat “I…I should go.”

“Sunday then? 10, aye?” Jamie asked, to be sure she would be there.

“Yes, I’ll see you then,” Her mouth curled up into a smile. She didn’t know if she would be there or not, even if she truly wanted to, “Goodbye Jamie.”

“Goodbye, Sassenach.”  

Claire disappeared in no time, without leaving a phone number nor an address and before she almost forgot, she pulled her necklace out of under her sweater and looked at the ring.

_The stone’s light blue colour had turned jet black._

***********

“You were right,” Were the first words Claire told Raymond, the second he had opened the door to his apartment. She was already inside and sitting on the sofa before he had the time to react.

Closing the door, Raymond walked over to her “I was right? About your crush?”

“He’s not my crush!” Claire protested, rolling her eyes – of course he was her crush.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself here, Madonna?” His little grin told her he couldn’t be fooled easily.

“That’s not the topic anyway. You were right about Jamie being a warlock from the dark circle, the ring changed colour.”

“I thought they were all extinct?” Claire frowned, trying to remember the few words she knew on the topic. She never bothered learning her history and it showed.

“Well, most of them are but there are still a few from various clans alive, I guess. Just like us and since we look like normal people, it’s not easy to spot in a crowd.”

“His name is Fraser, does that ring any bells?”

Raymond thought for a few seconds and pulled out his big leather book from the shelf. “Fraser, yes it sounds familiar…”

Claire got up and went over to the marble table where Raymond had opened the book, “What do you have in there anyway?”

“Various notes and newspaper clips, as well as ancient texts, Madonna.”

“I see,” She examined the pages “So, what do you know about clan Fraser?”

“Well, they are as Scottish as they come now but the clan originated in France à L’Anjou, to be precise. They came to Scotland around 1160.” Raymond started, reading from the pages.  

“They had been practising black magic, then?” Claire asked, too many things running through her mind at once.

“Oui, since the beginning and until Brian Fraser refused to keep on the tradition and married a mortal. It was twenty five years ago and…”

“They were killed,” Claire added, looking at him, “So Jamie’s father was a warlock but not his mother?”

“Exactly, but if you recall, only one parent needs to have powers to pass it on to their children.”

“I’m lacking in magic knowledge, Raymond, you know that,” Claire rubbed her temple, all this information was getting to her head and giving her a headache.

“Oh, je sais,” The Frenchman grinned, amused. “But it’s never too late to learn.”

“Is it why my scar burns when I’m near him?” She wondered suddenly, remembering the feeling and absently rubbing her arm, “Because it doesn’t when I’m near you.”

“It could be because he’s from the Dark Circle but I can’t tell you that for sure, Madonna, I’ll do some research and see what I can find on the matter.” Disappearing into his study, the old man left her alone in the living room with the book in front of her but she didn’t dare touch it, to turn the pages that most likely kept information on her parents and their murder.

Claire knew Raymond’s expert skills would eventually bring her answers and in the meantime, she shouldn’t see Jamie again but the feeling in the pit of her stomach was so strong, it almost made her weak. They were connected, that much she knew, but she had no idea by what exactly. No matter how much she turned it in her head, there was no plausible explanations, nothing good enough to make her understand what it was about James Fraser that made her feel that way.

Her ringtone brought her back to reality and she frowned at the unknown number. She wouldn’t usually answer but her finger pressed the button faster than she could control. 

“Sassenach, tis’ Jamie, I’m sorry to call like that but…” The scot started before being interrupted.

“Jamie?” She asked, surprised, scared, delighted, “How did you get my number?” She raised her eyebrow for no one to see.

“The university’s website,” He chuckled and that made her smile.

“Oh, of course…What can I do for you?”

“There was a wee notebook in the box ye brought me, I guess it’s yer uncle’s so I’ll give it back to ye Sunday but I just wanted to let ye know in case ye were lookin’ for it.”

“A notebook?” Claire had no idea what it could contain, after all, Lamb had notebooks scattered all around the house when she was a child and now the attic was full of boxes with them.

“Aye, it’s tiny and covered in red leather,” He explained, examining it again carefully while holding his phone.

“It doesn’t ring any bells but thank you, I’ll see you and the  _wee_ notebook on Sunday,” Claire hung up and sighed. She had an excuse to go now but she wasn’t sure she would actually show up for fear of what she might do, her need to touch him was overpowering her every second.  


	4. The notebook

_Oxfordshire 1993,_

_“Lamb, promise us you will look after Claire,” Henry pleaded, looking at his brother sitting on the leather couch, “If something happens to us…”_

_Lambert nodded, looking at his older brother. He had known Henry would be in danger the second he had learnt about Julia but, at the time, he thought it would only be a fling and they would both move on. Instead, they had fallen in love and got married in secret when Julia got pregnant._

_Henry Beauchamp was tall, dark, handsome. With his younger brother, he was one of the two last descendants of the Beauchamp Coven – witches and warlocks going back to 18th century France and practicians of white magic. The good magic._

_Julia Moriston was the second child of Liam and Jane – practicians of black magic. Before she met Henry, she thought she would follow in her parents’ footsteps even if she never found comfort in the darkness. Instead, Julia left her family behind to marry him and renounced everything she was to be with the man she loved._

_“We need to be sure you will take care of her and protect her if we’re not able to,” Julia said softly, her heart tight at the thought of not being able to see her daughter grow up, “You know what she is. Maybe they will leave us alone, at least for a while, but they will come for her someday and you know that.”_

_Lambert knew was his niece was. He had known since he heard the news of Julia’s pregnancy and he had been scared then, just as much as he was now._

_“You aren’t even sure they know where you are, maybe they don’t,” Lamb said not much convinced – he knew they were in danger, all of them._

_“We can’t take any risks, Claire is only a baby, she never chose to be what she is and it surely isn’t her fault. She shouldn’t be punished for it.” Henry added, wrapping a protective arm around his wife._

_Lamb didn’t want to think about the death of his brother and his wife – even if he had been reticent at first, he had grown to love Julia as if she was his own sister, and he saw how happy she made Henry. He also wasn’t ready to take care of a child if the worst case scenario happened but he wouldn’t have a choice – he promised._

_“Bloody hell!” Lamb got up, throwing his hands in the air, “You two did nothing wrong, for fuck’s sake! This dark vs white circle bullshit is excruciating. No matter what side we’re from, there is just a handful of us left, instead of working together, we’re tearing each other’s apart, and for what?”_

_“Lamb, you’re right about that but the ones from the Dark Circle don’t want to hear it, even more now that what has been spoken about for hundreds of years finally happened. We can’t go against them, we can only protect Claire,” Lambert could see the beg in his brother’s eyes and the pain, of not being able to keep Julia and Claire safe._

_“If we die, you take her and you disappear far away from Oxford, do you understand?” Julia spoke firmly, her usual warm eyes turned cold with worry._

_Oxford._ _They had believed it to be a safe haven after their marriage – a good place to raise their child and the ones they hoped to have one day. It turned out, it wasn’t – they had found them and they would come. Henry and Julia knew that, and they were prepared._

_“Yes,” Lamb said firmly before looking over at the chubby baby happily making bubbles in her kot, “I’ll make sure she is safe.”_

**********

Claire had spent her Saturday checking her uncle’s notebooks collection and none of them seemed to be missing. The moleskines were carefully stacked by dates in boxes in the attic and nothing was out of place. She also didn’t remember anything about a red notebook nor did she care, either, it was just an excuse to see Jamie again the next day without feeling guilty about it.

She didn’t actually feel guilty about seeing him, she was just afraid. She was attracted to him, in a way she had never experienced before, and the situation was less than ideal. She knew she had to take her distance towards him…she would start on Monday.   
  
Catching herself fussing with her hair in the mirror, she stopped and took a breath “It’s not a date, Beauchamp. Not a date.”

_It was a date_  – no matter how much Claire tried to persuade herself of the contrary.

Before finding the notebook, Jamie had asked her for coffee and the young woman knew it was a bad idea. Nonetheless, she was now on her way to the little breakfast joint on Hanover street. 

She arrived first and was lead to sit in a booth next to the fireplace. The place was cosy and warm, smelling of ground coffee and fresh pastries. She came here often on Sundays but it was mostly alone with a good book.  

Claire was about to sit but had no time to. Geillis Duncan had jumped on her and was holding her tightly, “Claire in seek of avocado toast I see.”

The redheaded woman grinned and Claire chuckled, hugging her friend back. They had met at college and even though Geillis was a brilliant surgeon with a crazy schedule, they managed to stay in contact ever since.

“Well a lady has to eat,” Claire said with a grin, “Are you leaving?”

“Oh aye, we were just done eatin’ and we’re on our way to see some friends,” Geillis explained, turning to look at her newest flame.

“This is Jack Randall,” She said with a grin when the man stood next to her and wrapped his arm around her neck, “And Jack tis’ Claire, my old friend from college.”

“Madam,” The man’s voice was deep and there was no mistaking he was English. His smile was almost chilling as he observed Claire carefully and brought her hand to his lips, “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Randall?” Claire asked, trying to ignore the anxious feeling he was bringing her and took her hand away. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“Aye, remember the chap who was after ye in college? Frank? Tis’ his cousin” Geillis said with a grin.

“Oh, Frank, yes,” Claire did remember the history major who relentlessly tried to get her out on a date and eventually had, only for her to fall asleep at the movie theatre. Now that she knew the link, she had to admit the two men looked quite alike, with dark hair and wide hazel eyes – but something was hidden in Jack’s eyes she never saw in Frank’s, something indescribable that chilled her to the bone.

“Well if you two are awaited somewhere, I won’t take much more of your time,” Claire was well aware Jack’s stare hadn’t left her and she was desperate to have him as far away from her as possible. She knew Geillis had peculiar taste in men but this one took the cake.

“Right!” Geillis exclaimed, hugging her once more, “I’ll call you, it’s been too long we’ve gossiped around a good cup of coffee.”

Claire nodded, hugging her back “Yes just give me a call and we’ll arrange something,” Turning to Jack, she smiled politely and lied, “Nice meeting you,”

“The pleasure was all mine, Claire,” His little wink and the way he said her name made her want to vomit – she prayed her glass face wouldn’t give away her feelings. The couple left the café and Claire sat down at her table. She could swear the look Randall had given her over his shoulder when he left was not innocent.

“Claire,” Jamie’s voice had the opposite effect on her and the smile forming on her lips as she saw him was genuine, “I hope ye haven’t been waitin’ for too long?”

Claire almost –  _almost_  – touched him, not only because she craved it but also because Jack had frightened her and she simply wanted to hold Jamie and feel his comforting heat against her body, but she didn’t, “Oh no, I just sat down, don’t worry.”

“Och good,” Jamie removed his coat and hat, before sitting down in front of her “Did ye already order?” His hair was a mess and Claire’s hand itched to run her fingers through the red curls.

“No, but I already know what I’ll get,” She smiled, absently playing with a stray curl to occupy her mind.

“If it’s no’ the avocado toast I dinna think we can be friends, Sassenach,” He said seriously, crossing his arms.

“Well thankfully it is, and a cappuccino,” Claire smiled, watching him. 

Jamie smiled warmly and gave their order to the waitress before turning back to Claire, “Before I forget, here’s the wee notebook I told ye about,” Jamie handed her the notebook in question. It wasn’t very big and there was no inscription on the red leather.

Claire studied it carefully, frowning, “I truly had never seen that before. Did you look inside?”

“Aye,” Jamie admitted, “Tis’ some notes about magic and something called The Bruja. I dinna ken what it was so I did some research and it turns out it’s a magical legend, a mixed force of magic, it has been traced back to the 18th century and it is said the Bruja is the only creature made of both type of magic which makes it a powerful force, if not, the most powerful all them all.”

Claire looked at him, equally fascinated and terrified, making him stop in his explanation, “Aye, I’m a bit of a nerd,” He chuckled, adjusting his glasses.

Claire smiled at his remark and opened the notebook, “It sounds like a fascinating tale, I’ve never heard of it before.” 

She studied the pages carefully and there was no mistaking, it was Lamb’s handwriting.

“Bruja…it means witch in Spanish,” Jamie added, “Not that I’m keen on it, I just googled that.”

Claire looked at him and couldn’t help but chuckled. He was both equally cute and charming and she was falling, too fast, too quickly, but she didn’t care, she let herself fall. She had spent most of her life being careful, closing her heart and surviving, she was tired of it. She wanted to live, fully and unapologetically and no matter what Jamie was, no matter where this would take her,  he made her feel alive and that was all that mattered just now.

“I’m not very fluent in Spanish either, at least I know one more word now,” The waitress had brought their breakfast and Claire rested her fingers on the warm ceramic mug full of coffee.

“Do you believe in magic, Jamie?” Her question surprised her but it was too late. She carefully watched his expression – _one of amusement -_ \- and realised he was either a truly good liar or didn’t know it existed.

“Och, no, I’m too practical for that. But I like to read abou’ it, the various legends and all, us Scots are keen on these things,” He admitted with a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

Claire believed him, she didn’t know why but she did and it occurred to her he had probably been raised like a normal child, just as she had…at least until she started levitating things.  

“But tell me, Sassenach, did ye grew up in Edinburgh?”

“I grew up in Inverness actually, until I was around 10 and my uncle got a teaching job at the university here, we kept a cottage there and we went back during the holidays and such.”

“So ye’re a little bit of a Scot, no’ much a sassenach, no matter the accent,” He grinned. 

“Not that I dinna like it, mind ye, it’s verra cute when ye say:  _Wot_ ” The way he imitated her made her laugh and she shook her head.

“I don’t say it so poshly,” Claire raised her eyebrow, taking a sip of coffee.

“Aye, ye do but tis’ cute,” He was flirting with her and Claire let him – there was no time nor space beyond what was happening here and now, between the two of them.

“But why Inverness?”

“I don’t really know, actually. He used to say it was a quiet place to make a home after years of travelling the world for his research and in a way, it was a really quiet place,” She chuckled. 

Inverness was charming and cosy but there was not much to do outside the house, even more, when Lamb had been so afraid to let her out of it too much.

“Aye, same wi’ Lallybroch – where I grow up –  that’s why I love books so much, they made me escape wherever I wanted to, without leavin’ my room,” He smiled and ate.

No matter how delighted she was to spend time with Jamie, Claire couldn’t stop thinking of the notebook and what was written inside – Lamb talked about witchcraft sometimes but he had never mentioned the legend of the Bruja before. Claire could also feel the warmth of her scar under her sweater and it took all the willpower she had not to touch it.

“Did you always want to own a bookshop?” She asked, letting her mind wander on other things. 

Jamie nodded and smiled, “I recall goin’ to London wi’ my godfather when I was just a lad and we went to Daunt Books in Marylebone, that’s when I knew I wanted to have my own. There’s just somethin’ so comforting about old books and the smell,” He chuckled softly “I sound like a madman.”

“Not at all,” She smiled, “I mean at least not to me, I understand what you mean,”

Jamie took a sip of his cappuccino unaware it left him a foam moustache, “Why ye lookin’ at me like that, Sassenach?”

Claire didn’t respond and simply took out her cell phone, grinning from ear to ear. Snapping a photo, she handed the device to him, careful not to touch his hand, “Just look for yourself.”

Jamie looked at the phone and laughed  _– a heartwarming laugh that released the butterflies trapped in her stomach –_ before wiping his mouth with the towel, “Ah dhia, thank ye for tellin’ me.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have and just let you walk around with a milk moustache for the rest of the day,” Grinning, she laid her head between her palms. 

“Like I’m doin’ to ye right now?” Jamie’s eyebrow rose and his mouth curled up into a sneaky grin.

Claire ran her finger over her upper lip and chuckled, “Well, I got caught at my own game.”

“Even like that ye’re beautiful, Claire,” He said sincerely, his eyes drowning into hers. Her cheeks flushed furiously and Jamie’s eyes drifted down to his hands, afraid to have stepped over the boundaries she had carefully set. There was something inside him boiling but she couldn’t see, he was suddenly panicking.

“Claire, there is somethin’ I want to tell ye…”

_Shit._

“What is it?” Claire frowned, visibly seeing his distress, “Are you alright?”

“Aye, dinna fash” Jamie smiled softly, “Tis’ just since I met ye, there’s somethin’ odd happenin’ to me…ye’re goin’ to think I’m completely mad but…”

“Jamie, just tell me what it is,” Claire sat up straighter, the knot in her stomach tightening. 

Leaning forward, Jamie whispered, “I can move thing wi’out touchin’ them,”

Claire knew he wasn’t lying, after all, reluctant witch or not, she used her magic sometimes when she was lazy. As a child, levitation was the first sign of witchcraft she had shown.

“Ye think I’m mad,” Jamie said worried, running his hand through his hair nervously.

“No, I don’t but I need you  to come with me to meet someone.”

Jamie frowned, she could tell he was terrified and confused, “Meet someone? I canna tell them that, tis’ crazy,”

“Just trust me, okay?” Claire wanted to reach for his hand, to comfort him and to tell him everything would be just fine but she wasn’t quite convinced of it herself and she couldn’t touch him – no matter how much her fingers craved it.

Nodding, Jamie smiled reassured and sincerely answered, “Aye, wi’ my life Claire,”


	5. The truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie learns the truth...And so does Claire.

The apartment looked like a cabinet of curiosities, with stuffed animals on a chest of drawers, shelves full of books and mismatched rococo pieces of furniture. The walls were emerald green to match the velvet sofa and the wooden floor was hidden by countless rugs.

“What do ye mean I’m a warlock?” Jamie frowned – the man made no sense and every word coming out of his mouth sounded like it belonged to another language. After his confession to Claire, she had told him to follow her to see an old family friend who could help them and that’s how he now found himself sitting on an old leather chair, staring at Raymond – 5ft tall, eccentric, and very French.

“You never knew that?” Raymond’s eyebrow rose, suspicious at the scot’s surprise. “How on earth did you not know that?”

“I dinna ken, nothin’ unusual happened to me…at least not until I met Claire,” Jamie said sincerely.

“Not just a simple crush, après tout,” Raymond grinned and Jamie’s cheeks turned a bright red colour.

Claire ignored the remark and sat down on the sofa, “I’m sorry this is happening to you, you must think we’re crazy to tell you something like this.”

“Sassenach, I’ve been lifting things wi’iout touchin’ them, I think if ye two are crazy, so am I.” He laughed softly.

“You are not crazy,” Raymond chimed in with his thick French accent, watching them, “You are crazy about her, yes, but that’s about it.”

Claire glared at him and silently ordered him to shut up about the subject. Raymond grinned “So, James, you are telling me this all started since you met Claire?”

“Aye, truly, I dinna recall such things before that.”

“Your name is Fraser,” Raymond stated and Jamie nodded, “Your parents were Brian Fraser and Ellen Mackenzie,” He said it as a fact, not a question.

“How do ye ken that?” Jamie frowned, an uneasy feeling running through his veins as the Frenchman knew more about him that he first let on.

“Your father was a warlock from Clan Fraser, an old coven from France and practicians of black magic since the 12th century.”

Jamie wanted to scream that it couldn’t be, but the truth was, he had never known his father long enough to be sure that Raymond was lying. As someone who loved reading about magic, he knew the difference between black and white, but he always thought those were legends and superstition…nothing more.

Rubbing his temple, Jamie shook his head – he was going mad, surely, “Do ye have a wee dram for me before we continue?”

Claire, who had sensed his need for alcohol, immediately handed him the drink, “There you go, I’m sorry Jamie.”

“Tis’ no your fault sassenach” Smiling softly, he took the drink and looked at Raymond again, “What else do ye ken about my parents?” Jamie realised he didn’t know anything about them after all, no matter what Murtagh had said, suddenly he didn’t know what was the truth and what was a lie.

“Your mother was a mortal and that was something your father’s family never accepted, even less when he decided to leave witchcraft behind to marry her.”

“How do ye ken all that?” Jamie frowned, drowning his glass of whisky in one swipe.

“Our kind is dying. No matter from which side, there is only a handful of us left and one day, there will be no more. I’ve been keeping track of everything happening in different clans for years,” Raymond admitted.

“Are ye one too?” He looked at Raymond with a questioning look – until now, Jamie hadn’t suspected the Frenchman could be one – but it made sense if sense could be made in all of this madness.

“ _Oui_ , I am one too but not quite from the same side of your father.”

“And ye?” Jamie looked at Claire, who was leaning against the big marble table, afraid of the answer he would find floating in the whisky that were her eyes. He could tell from her face only the answer to his question but he needed to hear it.

Nodding, Claire looked at him “Yes, I am but I’m not the most enthusiastic witch out there.”

“We have wasted potential from both of you,” Raymond chimed in, interrupting the look Jamie and Claire were giving one another. “I suspect your powers have been awoken by Claire’s simple presence.”

“How come?”

“Because it’s like a magnet of sorts. You probably showed sign as a baby but it stopped as soon as a magical presence wasn’t around you anymore,” Raymond explained, rubbing his chin. He might seem off to Jamie, but there was something comforting emanating from him, like a sort of blue light.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry about all of this,” Claire looked at him and sighed. She felt like it was all her fault for dragging him into this world, even if he had felt the beginnings of his powers – she could have protected him from all of it.

“Sassenach, did ye ken I was a warlock when ye first walked in the bookstore?” The simple word warlock almost made him laugh, this situation was indeed crazy.

Shaking her head, Claire sat down next to him again, her whisky eyes watching him – begging for him to believe her, “No I did not, but I came here after what happened when I touched you and Raymond suspected you would be one. I only knew the second time I came around.”

“How did ye know?” Jamie wanted to take her hand, to bring it to his lips but he couldn’t – he remembered what happened on their first meeting, he didn’t want to hurt her again.

“I have a ring and the stone changes colour when another witch or wizard is around, I don’t wear it but I thought I’d take it with me to see if what Raymond suspected was true. I soon realised you were not even aware of it yourself.”

“Och no, I promise ye I had no idea, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled, hoping she would believe him.

“I know, Jamie.” She believed him – and the heavyweight resting on his chest disappeared as soon as her mouth curled up into the loveliest smile.

“If you two are quite finished,” Raymond interrupted with a grin, “I’d like Jamie to tell me what he has been able to do.”

“Weel, movin’ things for one, and I can hear people thinkin’,” he said, running his hand through his curls, and applying pressure to his head – as if the pain of those thoughts was too much. “I feel things, it’s as if all my senses have multiplied.”

“Yes, that’s exactly how it’s supposed to feel. I guess you’ve been repressing your magic for too many years and it’s quite normal if no one told about such faculties.”

“You can’t hear other witches thinking though,” Claire added. It would have been too easy for Jamie, knowing what she thought of him.

Nodding, he smiled “Aye, I picked up on that already.”

“Now,” Raymond sat down in front of them, “Your father might come from the dark side, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you have to follow that path.”

“I dinna want to, I’m no’ a bad man…neither was my father, I’m sure of it.”

“No, he was not,” Raymond smiled. “Proof is, he renounced everything to be with your mother.”

“Murtagh is gonna have a lot of explainin’ to do or…do ye think he’s one too?”

“No or your power would have manifested way earlier, Jamie. Is he related to one of your parents by blood?”

“Nay, he was my Ma’s best friend is all. He always told me my parents had been killed in a car crash.”

“Maybe he knows but he wanted to protect you? My uncle hadn’t much choice to reveal to me I was a witch when I started moving things around, but Murtagh might have thought he would stay quiet until you would start showing signs and since you never did, at least not until now, he didn’t tell you the truth?” Claire was right – and in the short time they had known one another, Jamie realised it was a recurrent trait of the Sassenach.

“But what should I do now?”

“Et bien, you can either accept it and use your powers or be like Claire and pretend you are completely normal,” Raymond glanced at her and shook his head, exasperated.

“Ye dinna use yer powers, Sassenach?”

“No, not unless I’m too lazy to grab something,” She admitted, making him chuckle.

“Look, you don’t have to decide just now, but know we are here to help you no matter what,” Raymond said with a smile, patting Jamie’s back.

“Thank ye, truly,” Jamie said sincerely.  

******

“Do you think Jamie is telling the truth?” Claire asked Raymond once Jamie had left.

“Yes he does, The drink you gave him may or may not have been a soothe one while he thought it was whisky.” Grinning, he finished his wine.

“I believed him, I don’t know why I trust him the way I do, there is just something about him…”

“You are in love, Madonna,” Raymond said nonchalantly, “It’s not much more complicated than that.”

“I’m not in love, would you stop with that?!”

“It burnt when you touched him, didn’t it?” Raymond raised his eyebrows – it indeed hurt but Claire didn’t think much more about it.

“Remember what I said about your parents’ meeting was the only other time I’ve heard about such a thing occurring?”

Claire nodded, even if she didn’t understand what he meant, “Yeah, so?”

“I think it’s time I tell you the truth about your parents, Claire,” _The truth_. Claire knew what it was, at least she always thought so. Her parents were warlocks, it wasn’t exactly brand new information.

“What do you mean the truth? I know what they were if that’s what you’re talking about.”

“A version of it, yes. It burns when you touched Jamie because even if his blood might be mixed, the magic part of it belongs to the dark side.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” Actually, she did but she hoped she was wrong. It was time to open Pandora’s box.

“Your mother’s maiden name was Moriston, the clan had roots in the Viking settlers of ancient Scotland. The name was derived from the name  _Maurice_ , from the Latin personal name  _Mauritius_ , which means  _dark_ ,” Raymond started, his eyes carefully watching her reaction. She could tell it had been something he had wanted to tell her for years.

“Are you trying to tell me my mother was a dark witch?” Claire discovered she wasn’t surprised – there had always been something about her not making sense – a darkness that would consume her sometimes, and she now understood where it came from.

“Now I guess what happened when you touched Jamie happened because no matter the fact there is both black and white magic running in your blood, there is enough white power to create a reaction towards a warlock mostly made of dark blood.”

“How do I stop it?”

“Why? Do you want to touch him? I thought you were not interested, Madonna…” Raymond grinned as he watched Claire lean back, exasperated.

“This is not the topic, I’m just wondering since my parents had me, they must have been touching.”  _Among other things._

“I’ve seen your parents, they touched and kissed all the time.”

That remark made Claire chuckle softly, her heart squeezing tight at the thought that she would never witness such a thing, “I truly wish I had seen them being gross and in love…You know, if it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even remember their faces,” She sighed.

“That’s not what matters most, Madonna,” Raymond took her hand and held it tightly. “You remember the unconditional love they had for you, and I know that wherever they are, they are proud of the woman you are.”

“Do you think they’ll be disappointed I don’t use my powers?”  

Shaking his head, Raymond gave her another warm smile, “Non, they would accept your choices, I’m sure. You were their little treasure, they were crazy about you.”

“The way you were crazy about Lamb?” Claire looked at him and grinned, “You two were gross and in love, I witnessed that.”

Raymond laughed softly and nodded, “That we were, yes.”

“I miss him so much. So much so that my office at home looks exactly like his with all the furniture and books I kept.”

“Il me manque aussi, Madonna,” Raymond squeezed her hand.

“He wouldn’t be proud of the way I use - well don’t use, my magic, I know that for sure.”

“He would be very proud, but he also knew you were destined to do great things and even if he tried to protect you from it, he wouldn’t be happy to see your potential wasted.”

“Great things?” Claire looked at him amused, “I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes, trust me…” The look Raymond gave her made her wonder what exactly he meant by that and all of a sudden, Claire remembered the notebook.

“Those great things,” She started, sitting up and looking at him, “Wouldn’t they be related to the legend of the Bruja?”

Jamie’s words on the subject earlier that day rang into her ears and were starting to give her a pounding headache.

> _“Something called The Bruja. I dinna ken what it was so I did some research and it turns out it’s a magical legend, a mixed force of black and white magic, it has been traced back to the 18th century and it is said the Bruja is the only creature made of both type of magic which makes it  a powerful force, if not, the most powerful all them all. ”_

“Where did you hear about this?” Raymond frowned.

Claire got up without a word and looked into her satchel for the red notebook, her hands trembling. She hoped her suspicions were wrong, she truly did. Once found, she handed Raymond the little red book and watched as his face changed expressions and colour.

“Where did you find this?” He asked softly, still staring at the book.

“I brought a box of Lamb’s books to Jamie’s shop, it was in there…Raymond, look at me.” Claire said firmly – her hands were still shaking and a chill ran down her spine, “Am I the Bruja?”

She knew the answer – she felt it deep inside the pit of her stomach but she needed to hear it directly from Raymond. The man who had been like a father figure to her during all those years finally looked at her – his black eyes had turned soft grey, begging for understanding and forgiveness, “Yes…you are the Bruja, Claire.”


	6. A Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so excited about this chapter because until now it has been a wee bit slow and here’s where the pace is finally starting to pick up. A lot happens but bare wi’ me and I hope you enjoy!

The Bruja was a force, a spirit, a legend…a woman. She could control the earth, the fire, the water and the air – she could control the world. She would come, they said. The prophecy was clear, the moment black and white magic would merge, she would be created. The whispers had started as far back as the 14th century, she would come and restore the peace – she would heal centuries of wars and disagreement and stop the Dark Circle. 

Some were afraid, some were hopeful, some wanted her dead but the legend lived on – for years and years, passed through generations. Tales invented and spoken about in the quiet of the night…until October 1992, when on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, daughter of Henry and Julia, was born.

_They_  had tried to kill her but had failed. When they left the lifeless bodies of Henry and Julia Beauchamp lying on the floor, inside the warm house in Oxfordshire, they had thought Claire had been dead too, in her mother’s arms, but the spell had not worked and the child escaped with only a scar and became even more powerful, absorbing both her parents powers to fuel her own. Her parents had known and tried to protect her, to shield her from the people who would want her harm but it had caused their demises.   
  


***********

“Dinna be ridiculous, Jack, Claire is no’ a witch and she doesna believe superstitions and such,” Geillis said with an amused expression – in all the years she had known the Englishwoman, never once did she observe an odd behaviour and, as a witch herself, she would have noticed.

“Yeah, we have no proof,” Edward chimed in. The elder of the Randall clan was the most pragmatic and as much as he wanted to agree with his brother, they needed to be sure before taking a course of action.  

“I just sensed it when I saw her, there is something about her…something powerful.” The fireplace reflected into Jack’s eyes as he stared at it, slowly stroking his bottom lip. There was something deeply intriguing about the curly head, the way her cupid’s bow seemed truly carved by angels and the deep colour of her eyes, like a dark whisky, rich and luscious just waiting to be consumed  – no matter if he had only met her briefly, Jonathan Wolverton Randall couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Claire Beauchamp is no’ a witch and I’ll keep repeatin’ it to ye until ye finally realise tis’ true,” Geillis grinned, amused and completely unaware of the attraction her boyfriend had for her friend.

Jack turned his head sharply at her, “Beauchamp? That’s her name?”

“Aye, why? Have ye heard of it before?”

“And she is an orphan, right?” He briefly remembered Geillis talking about Claire’s upbringing once but he had never thought it important…at least not until now.

“Aye, grew up wi’ her uncle in Inverness but I dinna ken what happened to her parents,”  Geillis explained nonchalantly, still occupied with her phone.

“Before Inverness, do you know where she lived?”

“Why does that matter to ye so much?” Chuckling, Geillis looked up to find Jack’s serious glare on her, “What?”

“Do you know where she was born and spent the first year of her life?”

“She said somethin’ about Oxfordshire once, I think. I still dinna understand yer point, Jack.”

“I don’t need you to understand, I need you to help me get to Claire,” He was starting to get impatient with Geillis. He had specifically chosen her once he had traced Claire back to Edinburgh – even if he wasn’t a hundred per cent sure she was the person he was looking for. Geillis had promised she would help, introduce him to Claire properly and let him infiltrate her private circle, yet, it had been weeks and he had only met her once – too briefly to get something out of it. Now Jack was stuck with a needy girlfriend while his search wasn’t improving. Meeting Claire at the café only reassured him he was on the right path and he would finally finish what his family had begun.

“Well, you’re not her type if that’s what you are wonderin’,” Geillis rolled her eyes and threw her phone to the couch before getting up. Jack had explained to her early on what he was after and promised once they could get to the Bruja, that they would become far more powerful. With only a handful of them left, their powers were diminishing with each passing day.

“You’re not even sure she’s the person ye’re lookin’ for,” Geillis mumbled and stood by the window, observing life going by outside.

Jack ignored her and went over to his younger brother, Alex, who was head deep into his internet research about Beauchamps in Oxfordshire. “So? Anything come up?”

“Yeah,” Alex looked up at his brother “Come and have a look at this.”

> _**BEAUCHAMP FAMILY SLAUGHTER - CHILD SAFE AND SOUND.** _
> 
> _21st November 1993 – On Friday morning, Henry Beauchamp and his wife Julia – born Moriston – were found dead inside their Oxfordshire home after what seemed like a robbery gone bad. Their one-year-old daughter, Claire, was found asleep and unhurt in her mother’s arms when the corpses were discovered. An investigation has been opened but no suspect has been arrested for now._

Jack’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he was reading the article – all of his suspicions came out to be true and after all, his nickname, Black Jack had not been given to him out of the blue. He dwelled in darkness and darkness was where he belonged, like his father, grandfather and all the Randall men and women before him.

_Clan Randall_  – the most important family of the Dark Circle – had been at war against Clan Beauchamp since the 18th century. A war that took on many lives, and among them, the ones of Henry and his wife, Julia. Frank and his brothers were vengeful, not only for their clan but also their parents and the simple need of power blinded them in their quest of the Bruja.

The Randall brothers had been brought up to be powerful warlocks – who could control and use darkness to their liking – they had heard tales on The Bruja since childhood and had seen their parents go to deep ends to find it.  _Her_.  They committed the ultimate sin for nothing, the Bruja was alive and well and Jack was ready to be the one to take her down.

**********

“Why on earth did Lamb say nothing? He knew about it, it’s all written in his fucking notebook!’ Claire was angry, not only at Raymond for delivering the news about who she really was as if it has been a completely normal information but at her uncle for keeping it from her and also her parents.

“Lamb promised them he would take care of you and protect you until he drew his last breath and that’s exactly what he did,” Raymond said softly – his heart heavy at the thought of the love of his life.

“If my parents knew, why didn’t they take me away? Why did they stay in Oxfordshire?”

“They thought they were safe there, they had jobs and a normal life. Your parents never used their magic so they wouldn’t  be suspected of anything, I don’t know how they were found, I don’t know by who but what I know, Madonna is that you survived that night and it’s not only because of the spell your mother protected you with.”

“I don’t use my magic anyway, why would someone care about me being some 18th-century legend ?”

“Don’t you get it? They don’t care whether you use your powers or not.” Raymond was visibly upset and it was the first Claire recalled seeing him like this. “Killing you will make them stronger, and that’s exactly what they want. They want to eliminate whoever isn’t part of the dark circle and to recreate their kind to take over the world.”

“Why didn’t Lamb or you prepare me for this?”

“Lamb thought they’d never find you and when it became clear you didn’t want to be a witch, he hoped it would be enough to keep them away.”

“Then maybe he is right, maybe they won’t come for me,” After all, Claire thought, it was a possibility.

“Madonna, I wish I could promise you that you’re not in danger but you have been living with this Sword of Damocles hanging over your head for too long now and I cannot take the risk of something happening to you,”  Raymond took her hand and held it tightly.

“They couldn’t kill me the first time around,” She said softly.

“Yes but that day, not only you had your powers, you were also protected by both of your parents.” Raymond explained, “You have no been using your complete faculties for years, no matter how powerful you are supposed to be, all the wasted potential is catching up with you and you might not be able to escape them if they come for you this time around.”

“So basically, no matter what I decide, I’m fucked,” Claire sighed, running her hands through her mess of curls.

“Madonna, it’s time to face your destiny.”

“What am I going to do about Jamie? I can’t abandon him after the bomb we dropped on him today and I can’t surely tell him I’m the Bruja.”

“Why not? Jamie is one of us, and he will protect you as much as I would.”

“We’ve only just met,” Claire was in love – she couldn’t deny it as much – but on the other hand, this was too much for her, it wasn’t the time to start a love affair with another warlock, even less when she had no idea about the way he felt for her.

“Look, no matter what you decide with Jamie, we need to work on your magic and to prepare you. I can feel it, Madonna, something bad is coming.” His words rang like a prophecy to Claire and sent a shiver down her spine. It was time to accept who she really was, whether she liked it or not.

***********

Claire needed air…and alcohol. After the afternoon revelations, she felt like the day had been way too long. After leaving Raymond’s home, she walked towards hers all the while checking her phone hoping for a call or a message from Jamie. She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t reached out, he was probably shaken too, but she missed him – far more than she would admit.

The pub was a couple of blocks from her apartment and even if it was packed, Claire decided to continue her quest for a strong beverage inside. The lights were dim while soft music was playing in the background. It smelled of cigarettes – an unpleasant and yet comforting scent that always somehow reminded her of her father.

Removing her coat, Claire sat at the bar and ordered a whisky from the elderly woman working behind the counter. She had a warm smile and almond shaped eyes full of kindness – she was also probably thinking Claire was going through a breakup or some shit.

“There ye go, dearie,” The woman winked, handing Claire her glass, “Slainte!”

“Slainte,” Claire repeated and raised her glass, returning the smile before taking a sip of whisky. The warm liquid going down her throat was a comfort – much like being wrapped in a blanket in front of a fire on a cold winter night.

“I see I’m no’ the only one who needed a drink, sassenach” Jamie stood behind her and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Claire turned her head to look at him and couldn’t but smile – her crush was showing. “Well, a little dram never hurt anyone.”

“I like yer thinkin’,” Jamie sat down on the stool next to her and ordered a whisky as well. “I’ve been walkin’ around the city like a madman since I left Raymond’s apartment.” He admitted, looking at her. His lips seemed so kissable, Claire almost leaned forward - almost.

“I shouldn’t even be out this late, I have a ton of essays to grade tomorrow and I need to be up early,” Claire rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink.

Her statement made him grin, “Weel, only one drink and I’ll walk ye home, deal?”

Nodding, Claire clinked her glass to his, “Deal, Fraser.”

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly – no matter what she had learnt about herself, this man had had a rough day too – it’s not every day you get wind of your witchiness.

“Ouch weel, I’m still a bit shocked but I guess there’s worse thing than what I am, sassenach.” He smiled, “And weirdly, I feel closer to my Da.”

“It’s weird, isn’t? Not knowing the only two people who are most like us.”

Jamie nodded, finishing his glass in one swipe, “I always wondered what I had from him or from my mother. Of course, I have pictures to tell I have my Mam’s hair and my Da’s nose and then there is Murtagh to tell me I’m a true Fraser, as stubborn as a rock but tis’ no the same than watching them myself, ken?”

“Exactly,” Claire smiled sadly – she would give up everything to hug her parents one more time. She couldn’t help but felt guilty for their death, even more now that she was aware of the truth. Talking to him, to someone who understood what she had been through, she was so taken by Jamie’s eyes that she didn’t notice her scar wasn’t burning.

“Thank ye for bringing me to Raymond, he’s a funny little man,” Jamie said with a smile. “How did you meet him?”

“He has been a family friend for years and he was my uncle’s partner.”

“Yer uncle, did he die because of…ye know?” Jamie asked quietly, looking around them to see no one was listening to their conversation.

“He died in a fire, it was ruled as an accident.” She was in Paris with Raymond when it happened and for some reason, Lamb had wanted to stay behind in Edinburgh.

“I’m sorry, Claire.” Jamie didn’t think and reached for her hand. Claire was ready to pull it out and to feel the burning sensation once again but this time, nothing happened. Staring at their linked hands, she felt a sense of relief overcoming her and for the first time in a long while, Claire felt safe.

“Does it hurt ye?” Jamie asked softly – the worry floating in the sea that were his eyes.

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Claire admitted, her fingers slowly stroking his palm. Their hands started a sensual dance – skin against skin for the first time since their meeting a few weeks back. Claire had craved his touch, feared it even and yet, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“Sassenach…” Jamie had no time to say what he intended to as a loud crash resonated into the pub quickly followed by an explosion that sent them both flying off their stools. Claire had felt their hands being pulled apart and it took her a second to come back to her senses once her head had met the floor with a thud. She could see in the dark and she needed to find Jamie, at once.

“Claire!” She heard him first and then saw him, lying a few feet away from her. Her vision wasn’t perfectly cast out, it was more sensing warmth and energies. She didn’t know what was going on around her, a thick smoke was both clutching her throat and her senses, there was so much noise and chaos, too. As much as she could, Claire crawled towards Jamie and grabbed his hand once more. She didn’t know what happened then, but she felt someone scooping her and holding her close – it was Jamie.

Once outside, the air hit her lungs and made her cough violently. All she knew was that Jamie was taking her as far away from the pub as possible, “Jamie, you’re bleeding!”

He didn’t stop, not bothered by the blood running down his face – the sight was frightening, but being in his arms, Claire had no say in the matter of where they were going “Dinna fash, tis’ nothing, are ye hurt?” He asked suddenly, worried.

“No, I’m in one piece.”

Jamie stopped in front of a house and put her down, “I live here, let’s go inside.”

Claire nodded and looked around quickly, wondering if they were being followed before stepping inside the place right after Jamie.

She had wondered what his house would look like and it was exactly the way she had imagined. Books everywhere, big wooden pieces of furniture and a bunch of Barbour coats hanging in the hallway. It felt cosy.

“Let me take care of your face, you’re hurt.” Claire looked at him, reaching for his hand once more.

“Aye…but sassenach, what just happened?” Jamie took her hand and squeezed it before bringing it up to his lips.

“I don’t know…I truly don’t Jamie,” Realisation hit Claire and her hands started to shake. This wasn’t a simple incident, she was sure she had been the target. Raymond had been right.

Jamie pulled her closer, his deep blue eyes crushing against hers. He knew she needed comfort and he was ready to give it. Claire decided that tonight, she would let the wall crumble that she had carefully crafted and let it all go. Slowly, she closed the distance between them, her breath hissing and caressing his lips.

“Claire…I would verra much like to kiss ye,” Jamie whispered, licking his lips “May I?”

Her hands cupped his cheeks and her eyes studied his face for what seemed to him like an eternity. She memorised every line, every mark, every little detail that made Jamie unique and then, slowly, very slowly, she did what she had thought about since that morning she had walked into the bookstore. She kissed him.

His lips tasted like the whisky they had consumed mixed with smoke. Closing her eyes and letting the sensation bewitch her, she could see it all: a house in the highlands and love between the sheets. She could almost touch it – the happiness she had craved forever, it was there, just waiting for her to grab it. They kissed thoroughly for a long time, tongues dancing together and hands clutching each others’ bodies. She was letting herself go because quite simply, Jamie tasted like promises, love and the home she had longed for all her life.


	7. The Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire heals Jamie (but what else is new?) and reveals the truth about herself.

Claire woke up to the sound of a glass breaking, followed by a Gaelic curse. She wasn’t home – that much she knew – and she wasn’t in a bed, either. Wrapped in a thick plaid, and curled up on the large sofa, she could hear the fireplace crackling and the kettle boiling.

She hated the moments she woke up because all her senses were multiplied and it always took a few minutes to adjust. Her head was pounding – full of the previous day’s revelations and what happened at the pub – but her lips tasted of Jamie’s and that simple fact made it all better.

Jamie had kissed her – slowly and tenderly – suppressing all her worries and fears. It had felt  as if she had never been kissed before with both the excitement and the discovery of a first time. His lips were warm, tasting of whisky and something that made them uniquely Jamie – something she couldn’t quite grasp but she knew she couldn’t live without anymore.

After the kiss, Claire had taken care of his injured eyebrow and discovered it had been more superficial than all the blood made it seem. Jamie had whined about the alcohol burning, and she had called him a baby, making them both laugh. Then, they sat on the sofa for a long while, just talking while holding each other’s hands and kissed some more, before they both fell asleep, exhausted by their eventful day.

“Jamie?” Claire said in a rasped morning voice – her phone was nowhere to be found so a quick motion of her index finger brought it to her hand. The lock screen indicated 10:37am and a few unread emails from the university she would take care of later.

“Good mornin’ sassenach,” Jamie appeared from the kitchen with a tray of food and drinks and a warm smile on his gorgeous face. “I hope ye’re hungry?”

“I’m ravenous,” She admitted, stretching and licking her lips – not sorely for the food. “Did you break something?  heard you curse,” She grinned and he chuckled softly.

“Och yes, but dinna fash it was only some old mug from Ikea,” Jamie sat down on the sofa and deposited the tray on the wooden coffee table.

“You can actually put it back together,” She said, sitting up and looking at him.

“Aye, tis’ true but I dinna think I’m ready for that kind of thing, Claire,” He said sincerely and she understood. “I’m no’ much of a cook so it’s cereal for breakfast wi’ tea, I hope that’s alright?”

Claire smiled and nodded “Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

Jamie handed her a bowl and a spoon before helping himself with the other. “They say it was a terrorist attack at the pub…that no one survived. Do you think that’s what it was?”

Claire wanted to believe it had been, but something told her it wouldn’t be that simple. “I don’t know, until yesterday you thought your parents had been killed in a car crash. I think it’s safe to say we can’t assume this was some random terror act.”

He took a spoonful of cereal and nodded, “Ye’re right…ye’re always right, how do ye do that?” Grinning, he looked at her with affection clear on his face.

“I’m not always right, I just like to think I am,” She smirked and ate. Claire tried not to think of what happened at the pub – of those lifeless bodies lying on the floor when once again, she was safe and sound. It broke her heart and it showed on her face.  

“Claire…what happened last night wasna yer fault, ye ken that right?” Jamie’s blue eyes stared at her – how much she wanted to believe him.

“No, actually I don’t know that, Jamie. I can only assume it’s not to make me feel better but people died and it’s probably my fault.” Suddenly, Claire lost all her appetite and put the bowl back on the table.

“Tis’ just a coincidence we were there, I’m sure,” Jamie reached for her hand and she almost shrank back at his touch – not because she didn’t want to feel him but because of what he had just said.

“Just believe me when I say coincidences don’t exist in my life.” She had always suspected this to be true but now that she knew who she was and why her parents had been killed – she was sure of it.

“What matters is that we’re alright, sassenach,” Jamie brought her hand to his lips.

“How is your eyebrow?” She looked at him – his lips on her hand, sending a delightful shiver to her body.

“Och not bad, told ye I have a thick head,” he laughed softly.

“You don’t need to prove it to me with every occasion that presents itself,” She chuckled and got up to take the little medical kit she had left on the dinner table the previous night. “First you fainted, now this.”

“Tis’ not something I can control, sassenach,” He grinned, watching her. “Thankfully ye’re there to put me back together.”

“My medical abilities are not extensive so please don’t think I’m your personal doctor and it’s worth putting your life into my hands.”

“But it is worth it,” Jamie said with a smile – looking at her like an enamoured puppy. His look made her melt but she quickly sat down next to him again and brushed off his remark.

“Let me have a look.” Carefully, Claire removed the bandage she had made last night carefully and smiled. “Good, it didn’t get infected.”

“Oh thank Christ for small mercies,” Jamie grinned, making her laugh. His face was so close to hers, she could feel the warmth of his lips on her skin but she tried to focus on his injury.

Dabbing a cloth with  disinfectant, Claire carefully cleaned the wound, “You’re lucky the glass didn’t get in your eye.”

“Ye have some scratches too, Sassenach,” His finger lightly touched her face where the said scratches where.

“I know but it’s nothing, really,” She smiled. “Jamie…I can heal your eyebrow if you want me to…”

“What do ye mean?” He frowned, looking at her. “Wi’ your magic?”

Nodding, Claire put the bottle and cloth away, “I just…I mean it’s been a while I’ve done it but I can try, only if you want me to.”

“Aye, heal me, Claire,” He said softly. 

“Alright then.” Slowly, Claire reached up to his face and rested her hand on his injured eyebrow. She knew she could do it – it had been a while but she had done it before –  a few times to Lamb as his clumsiness was legendary and he hurt himself on a daily basis. She remembered how it felt to heal someone,  no matter the injury, it drained her every time. It was like absorbing a poison, it made her weak but she didn’t care.

Hands trembling, Claire could feel the pain going through her hands, and she shut her eyes tightly. Jamie was tightly holding the material of his pants, knuckles white with intensity. She knew it hurt him too. A few seconds felt like an eternity but finally, she blinked and looked at Jamie – his eyes still firmly shut – and his forehead healed.

Gently, Claire touched his eyebrow and smiled weakly, “There, all better.”

Jamie opened his eyes and touched his eyebrow in turn – his expression changing in shock. The raw and painful flesh was no more, “Christ…ye did it”

Claire nodded and leaned back, “Just give me a second, my head is throbbing.”

“Are ye alright?” He asked worried.

“Yes, it just happens when I do that, I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need anything?” He reached to touch her knee.

Claire shook her head and smiled, trying to reassure him, “Really, I just need a minute Jamie.”

“Did ye do it often? I thought ye dinna use yer powers.”

“I only did it a few times to my uncle – he was known to injure himself frequently. Other than that no but it’s truly exhausting.”

“Can I do it too? Heal people?” Jamie asked, curious. If only he knew…

“No,” She said softly, opening her eyes to look at him. She still felt quite faint but she could feel the energy coming back and slowly, she sat up, “Jamie…there is something I should tell you.”

“Aye, ye can tell me everythin’ sassenach, always.”

“The notebook you found in the box and what was written inside…about the Bruja,” She started, a knot tightening in her stomach –

Jamie nodded attentively listening to her, “What about it?”

“Those notes, Lamb’s notes…they are about me. I didn’t know that until yesterday when Raymond told me everything,” She added, her voice barely a whisper. She was afraid someone would hear, she was scared even Jamie would hear her words and run away. When she turned her head to look at him, he was firmly sitting next to her and he smiled kindly.

“Why am I no’ surprised to hear ye are a powerful creature?” His question made her chuckle softly and he took her hand again to kiss her palm.

“I’m not a powerful creature, I just want to be normal,” she shrugged.

“Aye but ye’re no’ so ye might as well accept it, mo nighean donn.”

Claire frowned – she loved to hear him speak Gaelic but she didn’t understand much, even after years of living in Scotland, “What does that mean?”

“My brown-haired lass.”

“Rather a dull colour brown, I always thought,” She shrugged amused.

“No…not dull at all,” Jamie smiled, reaching to touch her curls. “Tis’ like the water…in a burn. The way it ruffles down the rocks. Dark in the wavy spots with wee bits of auburn when the sun touches it.”

Claire felt the heat rise to her cheeks and his finger lingering on her skin didn’t help matters much. The butterflies in her stomach were having a party, “I…well thank you. So uh, what do you think I should do about my powers?” Changing the subject seemed like a better idea than to kiss him so that’s what she did.

“What do ye want to do wi’ them? I dinna think ye should waste yer potential, that’s for sure. Ye are this way for a reason, Claire.”

“My parents…they were killed because of me. Because of what I am,” Claire’s eyes dropped to her hands.

Jamie gently lifted up her chin and looked into her eyes, “Tell me, sassenach.”

“My mother was from the dark circle, I didn’t know that but in retrospect now, I always knew my parents’ murder wasn’t for nothing. I told you coincidences were not part of my life.”

“Do ye think meeting me wasn’t one either? Maybe it’s fate after all,” He smiled.

“Do you believe in fate, Jamie?”

“I believe in whatever it is that made me meet you,” He said gently, his thumb stroking her lower lip slowly. “I dinna ken what it is, I dinna care, I’m just glad it happened”

Claire was tired of fighting, his lips were like a magnet too powerful to deny, anyway. Slowly, she closed the distance between them and sealed their lips. Their softness fueled her but she was careful not to be consumed by their warmth. She could feel his hands travelling down her back, pressing her close to him. She wanted him, more than she ever wanted anything in the world, but she couldn’t let herself go this far…at least not yet. Before it was too late, Claire slowly pulled back and bite her lower lip “I’m sorry…”

Embarrassed, Claire got up at once but Jamie grabbed her hand and tenderly gazed up at her, “Dinna be.”

“It’s just…with everything that happened yesterday and what Raymond said, I’m all over the place.”

“Aye, I can imagine.”

“Of course you can, I’m sure you feel the same.”

Jamie nodded and pulled her on the sofa again for her to sit down, “Tis’ all mad, aye. How did you take it when ye first learnt ye were a witch?”

“Well, I was six so I find it quite funny to be able to lift things up and move them around,” She admitted with a smile, “Now it’s all turning a bit bittersweet, I never thought being a witch would mean more than it does. Of course, I heard stories, I even looked for them when I was younger but I never thought I’d be involved in some kind of two hundred years old prophecy”  She sighed, looking at him – Jamie had this childlike expression at all time that was oddly attractive, and no matter how she felt, just looking at him made her smile.

“Do ye think we’re in danger? Because if so, I’m ready to protect ye and to fight wi’ ye”  His words meant the world to her – apart from Raymond and her late uncle, she had never found anyone she trusted as much as she did with Jamie.

“I don’t even know what it is we will have to fight, all of this makes no sense. Raymond said there is a treat hanging over my head since the day I was born, i guess he must be right otherwise my parents would still be alive and I wouldn’t have a fucking scar on my shoulder”  

“Ye canna heal that one?”

“No, I tried a couple of times when I was younger but nothing happened” She shrugged, absently touching her arm, “It burns sometimes too, when I have nightmares or when I met you”

“Does it burn now?” Jamie’s voice was soft and she could tell he wanted to touch her arm – to remove the pain if indeed there was some.

“No,” his face relaxed at her admission “It tingles a bit that’s all but it’s not a bother”

“Claire…I promise ye I willna let any harm happen to you”

“To us,” Claire added, seeing his mouth curl up into a smile.

“Aye, ye have my word” Jamie wrapped her into his strong arms and held her close. It took twenty-five years but finally, she had found her safe haven.

“We need to prepare ourselves”

“We will and Raymond will help us, right?”

Claire nodded, her head still buried into the crook of his neck – his skin was so soft and smelled of patchouli. If she wasn’t sitting up, her knees would have probably given in “Yes, Raymond will.”

“Good,” Jamie smiled, slowly stroking her curls back, “Tha gaol agam ort” He whispered

“What did you say?” Claire looked up at him, frowning – she really needed to work on her Gaelic.

“I’ll tell ye someday” Jamie placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, making her smile.

“We should go and talk to Raymond about what happened and what we want to do” Claire got up and looked down at herself “But first I should get home and change before he thinks we’ve spent the night together” In a way, they had spent the night together – just asleep and clothed – but it was the first time Claire slept so peacefully into a man’s arms and didn’t have nightmares.

Jamie chuckled, “Tis’ not his business what we do; anyway”

“It’s not but Raymond doesn’t care about that fact” She grinned and brought the tray into the kitchen.

**********

“Well, that was a fail,” Geillis said sarcastically as she was laying on Jack’s sofa – attentively watching the news coverage on the pub’s explosion the night before.

“Don’t fucking start” Jack answered her coldly, “I knew it wouldn’t be enough, I knew she would make it, it was just to scare her until we will have the perfect occasion and the perfect plan to end her.”

“What if instead of scaring her, it will only make her prepare? Don’t you think she knows someone is after her?” Alex asked, worried.

“I think she is clueless about it all,” Edward chimed in, looking at his younger brother.  

“Who are you trying to convince here?” Alex was the younger child of the Randalls and never quite found anything exciting in dark magic and yet, here he was, following his brothers into their Machiavellian plans.

“Claire is truly clueless,” Geillis said honestly “How many times do I have to tell ye all she dinna care about bein’ a witch? She never did and she never will, she probably thinks what happened last night was an accident and she won’t think twice about it”

“I just like to be prepared, that’s all” Alex sighed, throwing his hands in the air. No one was listening to him.

“We are prepared, I just need you all to trust me and to follow me,” Jack started, getting up from his chair, “I will kill her myself, I want to see Claire Beauchamp beg me for her life, I want to see the glimmer of hope she’ll get in her eyes the second she’ll think I’ll spare her and then, I want to see her face frozen by death.” Looking into the mirror at Geillis, his mouth curled up into an evil smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story and leaving feedback! There is four more chapters left and I'd love to know what you think is planned? Cheers xx


	8. The Letter

The following weeks passed in relative normalcy – apart from some intense witchcraft training by Raymond for both Jamie and Claire, no other accidents occurred. And even if Claire had relaxed, she wasn’t a fool. She knew if they – whoever they were – intended to come for her, they would. Hopefully, she would be ready…

Her powers were growing by the day, along with her attraction for Jamie. They navigated around one another with a teenage awkwardness, some stolen kisses in dark alleys and touching of hands under a table. It was their bubble, their little secret – for no one else but them. Claire felt complete and yet, she could sense it would end in a matter of seconds – she didn’t know when or how she just knew it would.

Her nightmares were less frequent but more intense – so intense she would wake up screaming, something that never happened before. She was exhausted, both by her training and by her sleepless nights and the letter she had received a few days ago wasn’t exactly helping. It had been resting on her desk since it had arrived – and once, its content had been everything she had hoped for. Once.

The letter came from Harvard, offering her a position in Boston as the head of the literary department. At almost twenty-seven, it was a rare opportunity she would have accepted at once if it had come a month ago. Now, everything was different, she had things to consider before recklessly leaving Edinburgh and the life she had in Scotland – to leave the only home she had known to start over in America.

Then, there was Jamie – in only a few weeks he had become an important part of her life. With him, She was free to be completely herself and no matter how many times she tried to imagine her life without him in it, she failed miserably. Claire was career driven and Harvard was her ultimate goal – she had worked out to be where she was today at such a young age – and no amount of magic would have been able to bring her career where it was.

For the first time in her life, Claire didn’t know what to do.

She had another nightmare last night and she had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for a few solid hours – with Adso snuggled up to her side. It was raining outside but still pitch black. Her mind was going mad – between Jamie, the letter and everything else that was going on – it gave her a pounding headache. With a snap of the fingers, she lit a few candles in her room and watched the raindrops violently hitting against the window. She didn’t want to move and she wasn’t going to – at least not for another two hours when she’ll have to get up to get ready for work. 

Claire stretched her limbs like a feline and groaned at her joints cracking. Slowly, she sat up, rubbing her eyes and snapped her fingers again – in a second, she had a warm mug of peppermint tea in hand. She was glad she was supposed to go to class today and hence, not go to Raymond’s apartment for another excruciating training session, she had lost every drop of energy she had left and she wasn’t strong enough for it today – both mentally and physically.

******

After the morning classes, Claire made her way to the library to have lunch and grade some essays – she just wanted to avoid her house, and all the notes and books Raymond had given her, as much as possible. As she walked through the streets of Edinburgh, a thick wool scarf wrapped around her neck, she noted how all the trees had finally lost their foliage.

There was something unique about autumn, Claire believed it existed to remind us that things should end to begin again and somehow, it made her think of love. She had been with men, not many, but enough to know that what she was feeling for Jamie wasn’t some simple infatuation. She had never found anyone interesting enough to spend more than one night with and she had never been ready to open her heart…until now.

Now, with Jamie, that’s exactly what she was doing. It had been unconscious at first, but organic – it wasn’t forced and it was easy to open up, to be completely herself. Of course, he knew what she was, she didn’t need to control herself around him or to be scared of accidentally using her magic. She also felt like an open book he had been able to read from the moment they met, without judgement or fear, and most importantly, she had never felt as safe as when he held her in his arms. 

Her attraction was increasing, her need for him getting stronger and stronger – and the fact that they had not slept together wasn’t helping, either. But what was the most shocking to Claire, was just how much she loved him, simply and easily, as if her soul had been waiting for his forever.

The afternoon went by in a blur – from the outside, it looked like Claire had been grading essays all afternoon but on the inside, she was battling with herself about what to do with her life. Harvard was the easy way out and maybe, she should take it. Gathering her things quickly, Claire made her way out of the library and walked home, she couldn’t avoid her apartment forever. It was dark, it was stormy and it was late but she didn’t care – the battle raging in her heart was worse than a tempest. 

With every step closer to her house, Claire could feel him, his warmth, his scent…Jamie. He was most likely waiting for her, she thought – and when the sight of the tall scot sitting on her porch came into view, she knew she had been right.

“Sassenach,” He said, getting up at once, “Where have ye been all day?”

“To class and then to the library”, She answered and looked in her satchel for her keys, “How long have you been here? You must be freezing.”

“Och aye, I’ve been here for two hours”

“Christ, Jamie” She sighed and went inside with him, “You’re going to get sick”

“Tis’ fine, ye’ll heal me,” He said with a grin.

Claire knew he was joking but something snapped inside of her and all the accumulated exhaustion from the previous weeks, along with her worries and her nightmares came out at once, “Oh you think that’s funny?” She shrugged and shook her head.

Jamie frowned, looking at her, “Mo nighean donn, what’s amiss?”

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine,” She threw her coat on the chair and snapped her fingers to light the fireplace in a second – her use of magic was a good indication to Jamie that everything was not fine.

“Claire, ye ken I can tell ye’re angry but if ye dinna talk to me, I dinna know how I can help ye” Jamie walked over to her and took her hand carefully, “Please, tell me what it is.”

Gently Jamie pulled her closer and lifted her chin to look into her eyes – her stomach was in knots, she never thought it possible to love another human so much but she did. Jamie closed the distance between them and kissed her tenderly. She wanted the kiss to last forever so she could avoid facing the truth that was her life and instead live in the safe haven, that was his arms.

Reluctantly, Claire pulled back and bit her lower lip while her eyes looked up at Jamie with worry and sadness floating in their whisky colour – she had to tell him. “I…I got a letter from Harvard the other day…They want me as their head of the literary department.”

She could see something in his deep blue eyes shifting but his face gave no indication as to how he was feeling, “That’s a position I always wanted to have but on the other side, my life is here, you are here but…”

“But?” He interrupted her.

“I think I have to take it,” She added softly – maybe he wouldn’t hear her.

“No ye canna, Claire” He looked at her.

“You don’t understand,” She pulled back and went to the window, running her hand on the back of her neck, “I need to leave, Jamie. I need to disappear so they won’t find me and you need to go back to your life, without me in it because nothing I touch is normal.”

“I dinna want a normal life if it doesna include ye, Sassenach,” Jamie said firmly. Claire could feel his stare on her but she didn’t turn back, she couldn’t bear to see the look in his eyes.

“When they find me, I’m going to die and you’ll die with me. Now that is something I can’t live with, no matter how many days I have left!” 

“Claire ye heard Raymond, we are ready and ye ken it as much as I do,.” 

“No, I’m not ready and I’ll never be ready but this letter came at the right time and it’s not a coincidence,” Slowly, Claire turned around and dared to look at him. His face was still tough and unreadable, “I’m going to Boston.”

“Then I’m comin’ wi’ ye,” Jamie said firmly.

Claire shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying, “No…”

“I will go wi’ ye, I promised ye I would protect ye and I intend to do just that,” Jamie reached to touch her arm but she pulled back.

“You are not listening to me! I don’t need you to protect me, I don’t want you to. I was fine on my own before you came along,” She lied – it had only been after her meeting with Jamie that she finally felt safe but she couldn’t tell him that.

“Claire please,” He looked her – really looked – and his eyes bore a sadness she had never witnessed on anyone before, “Ye are the only thing that makes sense to me right now, if ye take that away from me, I dinna ken what to do,” His voice was barely a whisper but it was loud enough to break her heart into a million pieces. Claire knew that if she loved him so much…she had to let him go.

“You are a great man, James Fraser.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her throat was tight, she didn’t want to do this but it was too late now, “You deserve to be happy.”

“I canna be happy wi’out ye,” She could hear the trembling in his voice and saw his hand almost reaching for hers but he didn’t move.

“Jamie, whatever this was between us, it’s over…it has to be,” More tears were streaming down her face and she quickly wiped them with her sleeves.

“Let me come to Boston wi’ ye,” He begged once more and she looked down.

“No,” She said firmly.

“You are mine,” He reached for her hand. “Mine! And I will not let you go.” 

“I’m not yours…I never was and I never will be,” Another lie. Claire had been his even before they had met and she was well aware of that fact.

“Ye dinna mean that,” Jamie’s voice cracked – and so did her heart, “Claire, look at me.”

Slowly, Claire raised her eyes to meet his own, chin wobbling.

“Look at me and tell me honestly what has been goin’ on between us is no’ somethin’ special,” Jamie stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. It had been something special, so special she had to put it in a box and store it in a safe place forever.

“It wasn’t special,” Claire lied once more with a firm intonation like she used to convince Lambert of whatever he wanted to hear. What she heard, however, was the sound of her heart breaking. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem. 

Jamie stood there for a few seconds that felt like an eternity, a single tear rolling down his cheek – she wanted to kiss it away, to tell him they would be fine and to forget whatever she had just said. She wanted him to know she was aware her soul had found its other piece and that he was what mattered to her but the words didn’t come out.

Jamie didn’t say a word, instead, he turned around and disappeared into the hall before she heard the door closing. Standing still and vision blurring, Claire stared at the darkness for a long while until she finally realised what she had done, “I love you,” She whispered into the emptiness of her house. Sobbing, she slid on the floor and cried for what had been and what will never be.

******

It was surprising how quickly it took Claire to pack her belongings. From books to clothes and various objects, everything was now safely kept in boxes until it would be shipped to Boston in a few weeks. She would go to the Dean and resign her position on Monday and then she would leave a letter to Raymond and disappear. It wasn’t the way she wanted to leave but it was the only solution she had to make sure he would be safe – he and Jamie.

Jamie. 

His name had been like a forbidden word she never dared to utter out loud and even less, think of. Each time, she would feel the same heaviness on her chest and tears would start flowing again. It had only been three days since she told him to forget her but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Thankfully, Raymond had left for Paris for a few days which meant no lesson and no need for explanations to why Jamie wasn’t there.

The doorbell rang in the early afternoon while Claire was asleep on the sofa, surrounded by boxes and with Adso purring on her belly. She wasn’t expecting anyone and suddenly, a glimmer of hope ran through her…maybe that was Jamie. The cat, who had sensed his mistress was about to get up, jumped off her and went to rest on his pillow next to the fireplace, instead.

Claire got up and fixed her hair quickly – it was a mess, she knew she looked like shit anyway but she was sure Jamie wouldn’t care. Except, when she opened the door, it was indeed a ginger scot standing on her porch…But not the one she wanted to see, “Geillis?”

“Beauchamp, what the hell is happening to you?” Geillis made wide eyes, “And you haven’t been answering your calls.”

“I’m sorry,” Claire said sincerely – in all of this mess, she had forgotten her friend, “I’ve been all over the place, come in.”

Geillis walked in and frowned, looking around, “Are ye moving out?”

“Yeah…I’ve got a position in Boston and I’ve been packing since it takes a while to ship everything to the states. I was going to call you.”

“Harvard?!” Geillis smirked, “Damn Beauchamp, ye’re not kidding around anymore.”

Claire chuckled softly, “Well it’s a big opportunity, I couldn’t turn it down.”

“So why do ye look so sad, eh?” Geillis sat on the leather sofa and looked at her, “Is it a man?”

“A man, yeah…and a couple of other things,” She admitted, “I haven’t packed my alcohol if you care for a drink?”

“Aye, always” She grinned, “And I can feel ye need it more than I do.”

“You are very right,” Claire opened the bottle of whisky and poured them both a drink before sitting down next to her friend, handing her the glass. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you before, my mind is truly all over the place.” 

“Dinna fash, ye had other things to think about,” Geillis raised her glass, “Slainte!”

“Slainte,” Claire repeated and took a sip – whisky used to be a reliable liquid that never failed to warm her bones during lonely nights but now, its taste reminded her of Jamie and she almost threw her glass away.

“So tell me about yer man,” Geillis looked at her.

“I met this guy a few weeks ago…Jamie.” The name she hadn’t said out loud in days resonated through the room and it squeezed her heart tightly, “I walked into his bookstore near the Royal Mile, totally randomly and we became friends,” Claire omitted a few details involving witchcraft and other spells but she had never told Geillis her secret and she didn’t intend to start now.

“Then ye became more than friends?” The scot’s mouth curled up into a smirk, “Am I right?”

“We did…I mean nothing ever happened apart from kissing but you know we would get there, eventually…”

“Eventually? Claire ye’re almost twenty-seven, have the sex while ye can!”

“Well too late now, I’m leaving for Boston and I ended things with him,” she sighed, glancing at the boxes in the corner.

“Do you love him?” The question hung in the air for a bit before Claire could answer it – not because she didn’t know the answer, she knew very well she loved him, but because she didn’t want to admit it.

“Yes, I loved him more than I ever loved any man. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve ever felt this way towards someone,” She sighed, wiping her cheek with her sweater quickly.

“Aw, Claire,” Geillis put her drink away and wrapped her arms around her, “Then why are ye leaving? Ye love yer job, ye love Scotland and ye love a man, ye dinna need more to be happy.”

“I know…” She couldn’t tell her the real reason and she was starting to think maybe, it was worth staying and fighting after all.

“Look, tis’ not too late, I’m sure.” Her friend smiled, “Call him, fix things and allow yerself to be happy, okay?”

“Geil, please,” Claire smiled softly.

“Fine, fine” She winked, “But if ye do go to Harvard, we’re having a massive going away party before ye do.”

“We’ll have one, yes,” Claire nodded and smiled.

“Good,” Geillis got up and picked up the glasses, “But in the meantime, we’re getting a refill.”

What Claire didn’t know then, was that Geillis was carefully crafting a plan to report to Jack and his brothers. It was going to be quick and effective and leave her mourning for the rest of her life.


	9. Bloodline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time for Claire to face who she is -- and who they are -- has come.

Geillis had left and Claire kept thinking about what she had said.

_“Look, ‘tis not too late, I’m sure” Her friend smiled, “Call him, fix things and allow yerself to be happy, okay?”_

Happiness had always been a foreign concept for Claire. She had moments of it but it had never been a constant in her life…not until Jamie appeared. She never thought the sight of another human would give her goosebump or the sheer thought of spending her life with said human would free butterflies in her stomach.

After a long reflection with herself and a glass of whisky, Claire decided she would call him and try to fix whatever mess she had initiated – that was hours ago. Since coming to a decision, she had been staring at her phone as if it would miraculously light up with a call from Jamie in the meantime.  

“For god’s sake, Beauchamp,” She mumbled to herself and finally picked the phone up. Slowly she formed Jamie’s number and raised it to her ear – she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and she took a breath.

_One ring,_

_Nothing._

_Two rings,_

_Nothing._

By the fifth one, Claire realised he wasn’t going to pick up and put her phone away. She wasn’t surprised, Jamie had probably seen her number and decided not to answer – she couldn’t blame him. She had deliberately stepped onto his heart - _\- as well as hers –_ and he needed time. There was only one issue, they didn’t have time. Harvard or not, the threat over her head was still there, menacing to fall the second she wouldn’t suspect it.

She needed to see him and if he didn’t want her anymore, she needed to hear it from his mouth. Then she would leave for America…without her heart but also without regrets.

Too many things were going through her mind and all she wanted was to be in Jamie’s arms, away from pain and sadness. Claire eventually decided she would wait and show up at the shop the next morning and, hopefully, Jamie would be willing to listen to what she had to say.

**********

Her nightmare had always been the same. It started with a noise…like nails on a chalkboard, increasing with each passing second, coming closer and closer until it rang in her ears and made it feel like her head would explode. Chilling sounds, loud  _– too loud –_  and nothing could make them stop. Then, her vision was blurred by a red light burning her eyes as if she had stared at the sun from up close for too long. But both these things were not what hurt Claire the most. What was the worse was the state of trance and complete anguish taking over her body, she couldn’t breathe – feeling a force, too strong to control, tightening around her neck – it felt like thousands of tiny needles were piercing through her. Her body would always have the same reaction: arching in a vain hope of getting away, to escape. She was desperate to stop the pain – but each time, she had to wait for it to be over so she could wake up.

_This time, it was different._

Everything had started the same, the noise, the colour…but the blurriness of it all slowly took form, like an abstract painting going through the hands of a renaissance master. Shapes appeared; forms and bodies. What Claire was able to see was far more frightening than what she had ever heard or felt before.

_Jamie._

From what she could grasp, he was lying unconscious somewhere, his clothes torn and his body bloodied. Claire could hear voices around him, none she recognized, and she couldn’t see the faces of the people around him, either. What she recognized were his surroundings. She knew the place, she had been there before, many times – it was Raymond’s apartment.   
  
Slumber finally released its grip on Claire and she woke up at once, drenched with sweat and out of breath. Sitting up, she felt her throat – a mechanism she had acquired as soon as she was old enough to realise how deep her nightmares were – and she took a deep breath. She was trying to make sense of what she had just seen, it had been so real…almost like a vision.

Jamie was in danger, she could sense it and she saw it.  She was aware it was a trap – she didn’t know who was behind it –  but she had to go. If the last thing she had to do before dying was saving Jamie, she would.

Her entire body ached but she did not care. She was dressed in a second and out of the house in another. It was around 4 am, Edinburgh was almost deserted, except for a couple of drunken souls coming home from a night at the pub. It was dark, with only street lights showing the way, she was cold and drenched with rain but Claire ran – ran all she could to the other side of town – to Raymond’s home.

Claire didn’t remember Raymond’s warnings nor his lessons and even less what she was supposed to do. All she knew was that the person she loved the most was in danger and she was ready to do whatever it took to save him. She had been too young to save her parents but this time, she would make a difference.

The blue wooden front door was unlocked and Claire stepped inside – she was scared, she was cold and she was on the verge of crying, the images of Jamie hurt going through her mind. The lights weren’t on and the apartment was quiet.. _.too quiet._  With a snap of her finger, Claire lit up the place and it was untouched. Nothing looked out of place, and no one was lying unconscious and bloodied on the living room floor.

Sighing, Claire sat down on the velvet sofa and rubbed her face. “You’re going mad, Beauchamp.”

Maybe all of this truly got to her head and she was now losing her mind and along with it, the few strings she had left linking her to reality. Her nightmares were already awful enough without the need for them to be fake visions too. Closing her eyes for a moment, Claire could feel something crawling under her skin, trying to claw its way out.

“No, you’re not going mad, Claire.” The voice was low and hoarse, its undertone making the hair on her arms rise. It wasn’t Jamie – the difference in tone was too striking – and the accent wasn’t Scottish, it was English. It was the voice she heard in her vision.

Claire opened her eyes slowly and saw him, Jack Randall. He stood in front of her with the evilest little smirk on his lips and his eyes dark with vengeance – he was even more chilling than she remembered.

She had never been afraid – after all, she knew witches, demons and vampires lived among humans and were not the evil creatures books and movies tried to warn us about, at least not all of them. Losing her parents at a young age, in terrible circumstances, also removed any fears she had in living her life.

Getting up at once, her eyes glued to the man she had only met once before. She didn’t like his vibe back then and she surely didn’t like it now, either, “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Jack’s mouth curled up into a smirk, “The speech of a lady…the language of a whore,”

Slowly, the Englishman made his way towards her and Claire instinctively receded until her back hit the wall, “I’m glad we will finally have time to have a little talk you and I…since I saw you at the café, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” His finger brushed her cheek and she shrieked.

“Don’t touch me,” she said firmly – trying to stay calm but her patience wasn’t infinite, “I’ll ask you again, what is it that you want from me?”

“It’s quite simple, I want you and your powers all to myself,” Jack whispered, his breath against her lips. Claire felt something boiling inside of her, it was a mix of anger and disgust. In one push, without the need to touch Jack, she sent him flying on the other side of the room, his back violently hitting bookshelf before he landed on the floor.

Claire turned around to try and flee, she needed to find Jamie, but before she could go anywhere, Geillis appeared, “Are ye already leaving us, Claire?” The woman she had known for years stood in front of her and yet, there was something strikingly different about her – it was her expression and the look in her eyes, not one of affection but one of disdain.

“Geillis…” Claire’s shock could be heard in her voice and she was frozen in place.

“Aye,” The redhead smirked, “I bet ye weren’t expecting that, Beauchamp. Ye dinna believe we were letting ye leave for Boston before throwin’ a little party in yer honour first, did ye?”

“I thought you were my friend.”

“I was…until I met Jack and he told me the truth about ye. I’m really sad ye dinna think it was important enough to tell me yerself,” Geillis walked around Claire, her green eyes, filled with malice, glued on the Englishwoman, “I am one too ye know, a witch.”  

“And so am I,” Jack had gotten up and now stood behind Claire, she could hear the smirk in his voice and in a second, everything made sense. Raymond’s warning hung in the air and she knew the day had come.

“You have no idea how long I waited for this moment, Claire…for so long, I’ve heard whispers, tales about you. How you survived when you were not supposed to,” Jack walked around her and stopped in front of her. In one swift motion, Jack ripped her sleeve open to reveal the scar on her arm.

“Look at this masterpiece,” His finger reached for it and delicately stroked the scar – it was burning so much Claire fell on her knees – feeling like she was being drained from her energy, “Only something evil could have marked you like that.”

“I said not to touch me!” Her breath hissed and she looked up at Randall – she still wasn’t scared but god was she angry.

“You know,” Jack squatted to be at eye level with her – his stupid smirk still glued on his face, “My mother used to tell me how you go that scar, it was my favourite bedtime story and you know what? Actually, she’s the one who gave it to you,” His mocking laugh almost made her vomit – she was too young when it happened to remember anything from that night but his words chilled her.

“You see,” He continued, “My mother, Jessica, never recovered when her own sister betrayed her and left the Dark Circle to marry a certain Henry Beauchamp,”   

“Your mother…” Claire repeated, incredulous as she slowly got up.

“Dear cousin of mine,” Jack got up in turn and Geillis sat down to watch the spectacle playing out in front of her. “Your mother ruined her entire family reputation for a man, this is not a very honourable thing to do. Now at first, I didn’t know where you were or you who were for that matter but my path crossed Geillis and turned out fate decided to put me on my way.”

“You didn’t know about me?” Claire frowned.

“I knew some things but I had no idea where you were hiding. I have made some research and carefully planned the day I would finally meet you. After all, you lived, Claire, there must be a reason for that.”

“I lived because your mother couldn’t do what she meant to do properly, that’s about it. I’m not special,” Claire spat out, making Jack smirk.

“You know as well as I do that it’s not the case…you lived because both your parents protected you and because you are The Bruja. Give me more credit than that, Beauchamp,”  

Claire had hoped he wouldn’t have known this tiny detail but apparently, he did. She was also very aware of Geillis stare on her.

“Aye, ye are a powerful force, Claire,” Geillis chimed in. Claire quickly scanned the room, trying to find a way out but both of them were standing in front of her, “‘Tis sad ye’re wasting all of it because of yer stubbornness of no’ being a witch.”

“What I decide to do is none of your business,” Claire replied.

“It is when I ken I could be far more grateful of having those power myself and I would ken what do to wi’ them,” Geillis said nonchalantly – Claire knew what kind of things she would do with them.

“I’m not responsible for my parents’ actions, Jack and neither are you,” Claire turned to Randall and watched him – maybe she could talk some sense into him. “You’ve been raised believing I would be a threat but I’m not interested in my powers nor using them.”

“Yes but you see, this is not about what you are interested in,” Jack tilted his head and carefully watched her – now that she knew, Claire could see the familiarity between both of them. After all, she had her mother’s eyes and apparently it was a Moriston trait.

“On my mother’s deathbed, I promised her I would finish what she and my father had started and that’s exactly what I intend to do, madam.”

“You want to kill me,” Claire raised her eyebrows – it wasn’t a question, she knew very well he wanted to but it was a confirmation, spoken out loud and ringing like a prophecy.

“Go ahead, Jack.” Claire’s voice was removed of emotions – she wasn’t scared – and her whisky eyes glared directly into his black ones,  _“Kill me.”_

“That is exactly where you believe me to be too predictable, dear.”

“Yes, at first I thought I would kill you at once but I found something far more satisfying,” Jack looked at Geillis and nodded his head. In a second, the two other Randalls walked in and threw a bloodied Jamie on the floor. He looked exactly like in her vision, with his clothes torn, his face and back covered in blood.   
  
Having lost her parents when she was only one and then her uncle, Claire always thought she was immune to the fear of losing the person who mattered most in her life but she was wrong. Seeing Jamie unconscious on the floor, she knew that if he died, she would have to follow. No one could live without a heart, not even a witch.

“Jamie…” Claire’s voice cracked – as well as her heart – and she kneeled down next to him. Her vision was blurred by unshed tears.

“I don’t believe you have met my brothers, Edward and Alex,” Jack introduced the two men who had brought Jamie into the room. They looked similar to Jack, except for the younger one who looked quite pale and afraid.

Slowly, Claire looked up at the four people staring down at her, – she wanted to get up and kill one after the other but she had to be smart about it, she had to carefully prepare her plan, “What have you done to him?!”

“A few spells of tortures and a lot of punches, it’s the most satisfying punishment to inflict. Don’t worry, he’s not dead…at least not yet,” Geillis explained, leaning against the wall and smirking, “‘Tis funny, Claire, I’ve always known ye composed, sure of yerself and never afraid, I think ‘tis the first time I can see the fears in yer eyes and I have to admit, ‘tis quite satisfying,”

Claire didn’t listen to her, she didn’t care. She slowly stroked Jamie’s cheek and watched him attentively. She wanted to heal him but if she did it now, she would lose all the energy in her body and most likely end up dead.

_It was either him or her._

“Claire…”Jamie whispered softly, as soon as her fingers brushed the warm skin of his cheek.

“Sssh,” Claire leaned down and softly kissed his lips – she didn’t know if she would have time to do it again.

“Don’t forget you are one of us, Claire,” Jack interrupted them and stood next to her, “You dwell in darkness as much as we do.”

“I do not,” Claire said firmly and got up, facing him.

“You are and that’s alright,” Jack smiled, “Just accept it and you can get out of here without a scratch and so will your loverboy.”

Claire knew he was lying – it was too obvious and she almost wanted to laugh. She also knew she had been prepared for this by Raymond for weeks. “Kill me Jack, and get what you want from me but let him go. I just have one condition before you do so, let me heal him and then I’m yours.”

“Alright then,” Jack said simply and everyone stepped back. “I’m curious to see that.”

Claire nodded and kneeled down again – she had no plans, she just tried to gain some time. She carefully studied Jamie’s body. His back was as injured as if he had been through a motorcycle accident, his gorgeous face was barely recognizable and his red hair was covered in blood. The simple sight of him made her blood boil and she could feel the electricity in her hands as she placed them above Jamie’s back.

“ _Madonna_ ,” Raymond’s voice made her look up instantly and she had never been so relieved to see him. In no time, the Frenchman had cast a spell on their opponents and froze them in place, “Quick, this won’t keep them like this for long”

“I don’t know what to do!” Claire said sincerely and he touched her hand – as if he was sending a blue light through her body – it was warm and comforting.

“You know exactly what to do, Madonna, and you are not alone.”

“But Jamie…”

“Will be just fine if you are too,” Raymond interrupted her as his spell was fading.

Jack suddenly moved, “I’m happy to see you all around, this is going to be a great party!”

Claire got up again and sent him flying across the way – only his voice was enough to send her blood boiling. Raymond was right, she was ready and strong enough to take them down. Before any other Randalls or Geillis could retort, she did the same with them – all of their collisions with the walls making frames and objects fall off of it. She would take care of Jamie in time. Right now she had other matters to take care of.   
  
Facing Jack, his brothers and Geillis who had all gotten up – no matter their bruised bodies – Claire felt it again, the electric powers in her hands. But before she could do anything, Geillis made a move and she heard Raymond’s chilling shriek.

Claire turned around, bringing her eyes reluctantly to the floor – she knew what she would see and it was exactly that. Raymond’s frozen and lifeless body was laying next to Jamie who was barely breathing. She knew she couldn’t save Raymond, it was too late but if she acted fast enough, she could manage to save Jamie. Tears escaped her eyes – both from sadness and from the anger of losing the last member of her family. Too many years, too many losses, it was time to make a stop at it once and for all.   
  
For her parents, for Lambert, for Raymond and for all the souls that have been lost to the evil of the Dark Circle generations after generations for hundreds of years.

Claire looked back at Geillis, with Jack, Edward and Alex behind her and something took over her body. Her whisky eyes turned the colour of cherries soaked in brandy with a glint of red. There was a powerful light surrounding her but she couldn’t see it. Jack and the others could and they didn’t move. Twenty-five years of repressed magic and grief came out of her, at once. She started to levitate and muttered words in a foreign language they couldn’t understand.  
  
_It was as mesmerizing to watch as it was terrifying to see._

At that moment, after years of whispers and tales of a legend told to children at night, The Bruja came into full power in front of four pairs of incredulous eyes. She was everything at once, a faerie, a witch, a demon, a woman. She was called a wise woman, a healer. And yet… she saw to the centre of a man and could turn his soul to ashes if evil be found there. That’s exactly what Claire Beauchamp did in that room that night. The darkness exploded, killing Jack, Geillis, Alex and Edward, but not only – Claire got rid of her own darkness, the one she had inherited from her mother that always haunted her at night for so many years.

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust._

The light was blinding – so white, so pure – and engorged the room for a long moment. Claire’s feet touched the ground and silence fell. It was the first time in her life that she felt so relieved, so peaceful and so powerful. Watching her hands, she could see her veins – shiny and blue under her white porcelain skin almost transparent – and feel the power running through them.

Claire’s eyes travelled to Raymond’s body – it was too late. He had been very clear, the only thing more powerful than her was death and there was nothing she could do about it except grieving. She knelt down, tears rolling down her cheeks. He was the only family member she would have time to say proper goodbyes. Slowly, Claire reached for his face, his skin already cold and white, and she closed his eyes.

There were many things she wanted to say to him, so many things she wanted to thank him for but she knew he would be happy with just two words, spoken in French.

_“Je t’aime,_ ” Claire whispered and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead before covering him with a plaid.

“Sorcha.” The voice was weak and resonated into the room, bringing her back to reality. She didn’t think she would ever be able to accurately explain the effect the deep voice, smooth like honey, had on her but each time she heard it, the feeling was the same. It was like stepping inside your warm home on a cold winter day.

“Oh, Jamie…no, don’t try to move,” she said as soon as she saw his body trying to slide up. He was too weak and too hurt to even be conscious right now, “I will fix you, I promise.”   
  
“I’m tired,” he said weakly, taking her hand and closed his eyes again. Claire could tell he used all the energy he had left to do that and it broke her heart.

Claire brought his bloodied hand to her lip and carefully place a kiss on it. She remembered that day she told him she wasn’t a doctor and she couldn’t fix him all the time – she wasn’t a doctor indeed but she could heal him, that much she hoped.

With her palms firmly planted above his body, it took everything she had and a while but she could see his body healing, raw flesh changing and skin forming back under her magic touch. She could also feel her body draining itself from its energy – but she didn’t care, she would be fine. She didn’t know how long it took – it could have been seconds or even hours – but she healed Jamie.

Like the sun setting, after casting daylight, everything around Claire turned pitch black and losing all consciousness, her body went to lay next to Jamie who was slowly coming back to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much so much for reading! This story is slowly coming to an end and the next chapter will be the last.   
> I'd love to know what you thought of it!   
> <3


	10. Ghosts

_She was dead._

Everything around her was blinding white and there was this soft rushing sound like the wings of angels. She felt peaceful and bodiless. Free of terror, free of rage, filled with a quiet happiness. 

Claire felt something brushing against her cheek and opened her eyes slowly. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to daylight and she realised the cloud she thought she had been floating on was simply a bed –  _her bed._

“Sorcha,” Jamie whispered, his big blue eyes staring down at her with utter relief floating in them.

Claire blinked and simply watched him, still not sure of what was happening around her – maybe she was dead after all.

“Claire,” He called her again. His voice was louder this time – and warm, like a good whisky going down her throat.

“Am I dead?” She groaned, looking at him – exhausted, her body aching.

“I thought I was, then I thought ye were but thank Christ ye aren’t, none of us is,” The Scot’s smiled and looked at her with such relief in his eyes, she almost wanted to cry.

“When I woke, ye were lyin’ next to me unconscious, I dinna ken what to do so I transported us to yer home. Ye’ve been asleep for a long while, mo nighean donn,” Jamie stroked a stray curl behind her ear and watched her, “And yer hair…it’s white.”

“White?” She frowned, touching her mass of curls and sat up slowly – she caught her reflection in the mirror on the wall. Her mass of curls was indeed white and it didn’t look half bad.  

“ _Calman geal,_ ” Jamie whispered, stroking her cheek.

As her eyes met his, Claire suddenly remembered everything that had happened. From her nightmare to her running through the streets of Edinburgh and the events that followed, “They killed Raymond…” She whispered, “I couldn’t save him,” Her hands started to shake and tears strolled down her cheeks.

“No it was too late,” Jamie wiped her tears away with a tissue and brought her hands to his lips, “What ye did last night is very blurry to me but I ken it was grand. They’re gone now, and they cannot hurt ye again.”

Claire knew there was nothing she could have done to save Raymond and yet, her heart was broken. He was the last family member she had and she knew the other ones died because of her, because of what she was and she didn’t think she could ever forgive herself. Looking at Jamie, her heart felt heavy and light at the same time, he had been swept into this situation after meeting her and almost died because of it.

“I’m so sorry,” Claire croaked, tears flowing again. She had spent most of her life putting her emotions in a box she never dared to open but she was tired now. So exhausted, she let herself crumble into his arms.

Jamie didn’t say a word and instead, held her close while she cried. It broke his heart to see her like this. He could bear pain but he would never be able to bear hers.  

“Claire…I thought I was dead then until I felt yer hands on me.” Jamie lifted her chin, his mouth curling into a smile, “Ye saved me Sorcha and for all it’s worth, I will be forever grateful for what ye did.”

“I was not going to lose you too,” Reaching for his face, Claire stroked his cheek and chin slowly, her eyes still blurred by tears. In a few short months, Jamie had become her heart and one couldn’t live without a heart.

“Dinna be afraid, aye?” Jamie kissed the tip of her nose, “There’s the two of us now.”

Claire nodded and looked up at his eyes for a long moment before lowering her stare to his mouth. She recalled the taste of his lips and how much she wanted to kiss him for the rest of her life. She could feel his breath against her skin and slowly, she closed the distance between them. It just had she recalled, warm and with the faint taste of coffee, he must have had before she woke.

They kissed thoroughly for a long time, Claire needed to feel alive and she could tell so did Jamie. Her fingers tracing his toned arms before pulling him closer by the neck. Her fingers wandered in his soft red curls and she heard a low groan escaping his lips – making her smile against them.

“Dinna leave for Boston…or at least not wi’out me,” Jamie whispered, his arms wrapped around her tightly, “I canna bear the thought of bein’ away from ye again, Claire.”

“I promise I will never leave you again,” Cupping his cheeks, she pulled his face closer and sealed their lips once more to stamp her promise.

**********

Claire had not been back in Inverness since Lamb’s burial. The little town held a special place in her heart; so many memories of growing up carelessly and not one bit worried about life, afternoons walking through towns with her uncles, having tea and scones at Mrs Baird’s and buying necessities at the general store. She realised now how much Lamb had shielded her and protected her, how much he loved her and she was grateful.

Jamie had arranged everything – from calling the ambulance on the scene to making sure the little ceremony would have the music Raymond wanted. When the doctors arrived at the apartment, Jamie had put everything back to its rightful place as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. The doctor ruled a sudden heart attack and Raymond’s body had been placed at the morgue, awaiting the funeral.

The ceremony had been intimate and a celebration of the eccentric Frenchman’s life. Claire read his favourite poem by  _Baudelaire_  and reiterated a few tales from her time spent with Raymond that managed to make the attendees laugh. People from the village who had known Lambert and Raymond had gathered to honour him and pay their respects, telling Claire how sorry they were for her loss and how Raymond had been such a lovely man.

Once everybody had left, Claire deposited some flowers on her uncles’ shared grave.

_Quentin Lambert Beauchamp - 1962 - 2014  
Raymond Antoine Rousseau Beauchamp - 1964 - 2018._

Jamie watched her silently for a while before making his way to her and wrapping her arms around her from behind.

Claire’s mouth curled up into a smile and she stroked his arm, “Thank you for everything you did.”

“Dinna thank me,” Jamie kissed her cheek and smiled, holding her tighter, “How do ye feel?”

“I miss him so much,” Claire admitted, taking a breath before turning around to look at Jamie, “But I know he’ll be happy to be back with Lamb.”

“Aye, and they will look over ye,” Smiling, Jamie leaned down and sealed their lips.

Claire closed her eyes and held the Scot tightly for a long time. She couldn’t explain it but she felt a presence around them and she smiled knowing she would be alright.

_“Look at her,” Julia said softly, leaning against her husband as they were looking at Claire and Jamie, “Our little baby is all grown up.”_

_“Oh yes, she is,” Henry wrapped his arm around her and smiled proudly, “She’s going to be fine.”_

_“She will. He looks like a nice chap, reminds me of you,” She grinned, kissing Henry’s cheek._

_Raymond and Lambert stood next to Henry and Julia in silence holding each other’s hands and smiling warmly, just happy to be reunited. They knew with Jamie by her side, Claire would be just fine._

_“It’s time for us to go,” Lamb said softly after a little while of watching his niece, “She doesn’t need our protection anymore.”_

_Julia nodded and smiled, “Yes but just one more minute, Lamb.”_

_Together with Henry, they walked towards Claire and wrapped their arms around their daughter for the last time. All her life, they had watched her from afar, making sure she was safe and loved, first joined by Lamb and now by Raymond, their work here was done. It was time for Claire to stop living her life surrounded by ghosts._

_“We love you, Claire bear,” They both whispered at the same time before slowly stepping away._  Their daughter – who felt them – look behind her and smiled. The wind rose and the four ghosts disappeared together, knowing Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp would live a long and happy life.  

_They were gone._

“What is it?” Jamie asked, looking at her with a smile.

Claire looked up, stroking his arm, “I think my parents finally find the peace they had been looking for.”

“They were here? Wi’ us?” Jamie looked around in search of them.

“Yeah, with Lamb and Raymond but now they’re all gone cause I’m going to be alright,” Claire leaned up and kissed him tenderly, “ _We’re_  going to be alright.”

“Aye, we will,” Jamie whispered against her lips, his thumb slowly stroking her cheek.

“We should go to the house, I think it’s going to rain soon.”

Looking up, Jamie frowned and remarked, “It doesna look like it will.”

“Are you sure about that?” Claire looked around quickly to make sure there was no one else in the cemetery before smirking. In the blink of an eye, the sky turned grey and rain began to pour.

Jamie burst into a laugh and watched her, shaking his head “You’re a thunderstorm, Beauchamp.”

“I’ll take that,” Claire wrapped her arms around his neck again and kissed him hungrily this time, both of their clothes getting soaked by the rain.

“We should go back to the house before we get the flu, sassenach,” Jamie proposed breathless by her kiss and she simply nodded with a grin.

Claire started to run towards the cottage, making Jamie chuckle before he started running after her – she would be the end of him. Quickly, he picked up the pace, finding Claire looking in her purse for the keys.

They had arrived at the cottage in the morning and after a quick tour of the place and a brief history of Claire’s time spent here with Lamb and Raymond, they had to leave for the chapel.

Claire didn’t stop the rain and once the door opened, she stepped inside, pulling Jamie with her.  Her bag and the keys fell on the floor once Jamie’s hands pulled her closer, resting on her bum and his mouth attacked the delicate skin of her neck – his unshaved beard tickling her and sending shivers through her body. Often enough, she had imagined how his body would feel against hers and now she would finally find out.   
  
Jamie closed the thick wooden door with his foot and looked into her eyes, his hand stroking her wet hair behind her ear, “Do ye want this, Claire?”

Nodding, she smiled and clumsily opened the button of his white shirt. The cotton was clinging to his skin and she could see the muscles beneath it, her fingers ached to touch him, “Yes, I want this… I want you.”

Jamie smiled, not caring that his face was dripping with rain from outside, and lifted her up. Together, they made their way to Claire’s bedroom, their leather bags still on the floor from their morning’s arrival, and he put her down – his eyes glued to her. She was glowing with a mischievous glint in her whisky eyes that drove him mad.

“Could you unzip me?” Turning around, Claire lifted up her hair and looked at him over her shoulder smiling.

“Aye,” Jamie took a step forward – his fingers twitching, and slowly unzipped the tight black dress Claire was wearing, revealing a hint of the curves of her body.

Claire stepped off her heels and turned around before pulling down her dress, her eyes attentively watching the Scot who seemed bewitched by her.

Jamie’s eyes travelled up and down her body – memorising every curve, every beauty mark – and stopped on her scar before placing a delicate kiss on her skin, “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore,” Claire smiled, realising her scar had stopped burning.

Standing in her underwear, it was the first time she didn’t feel shy and foolish in front of a man. He made her feel beautiful. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra before throwing it at him.

Jamie caught it, his mouth curling into a smile and biting his lower lip, “Christ, ye’re so beautiful.”

“Come here,” Grabbing his belt, she pulled him close and whispered against his lips, “Now fair’s fair,” Claire removed his shirt as she kissed him. Jamie undid his belt before pulling down his pants and boxers and stepping out of them.

Lifting her up, Jamie carefully laid her on the bed and couldn’t erase the smile from his lips as he watched her.

“Are you going to look at me forever?” Claire raised her eyebrow, smirking.

“I could, aye,” Jamie admitted and pulled down her panties, “But I’ll do that later.”

“Good,” Claire pulled him down again and their lips met. The first time she had touched Jamie, her hand had burnt. She understood, now, it had been a physical reaction to him, something she didn’t –  _and couldn’t_  – control. A fire consuming her completely and to which she was letting herself be mastered by it. It didn’t hurt to touch him anymore, but she still burned for him and she would for the rest of her life if he wanted her for that long.

**********

Tangled together, Claire laid her head on Jamie’s chest and didn’t dare to think of the mess her curls must be due to the rain. She absently stroked his side, a feeling of complete peace taking over her body while his hand rested on her back. The sound of his heart beating soothed her and she found it to be the most comforting thing in the world.

“Are you cold?” She asked, looking up at him with a smile. The night had fallen and it was still raining outside.

“Aye a bit, and tis’ quite dark in here,” Jamie admitted amused, “Can ye take care of that or de ye want me to?”

“Nah, I’ll do it,” Leaning up, Claire kissed the tip of his nose before turning to look at the fireplace in front of the bed. It took two seconds for her to light it from afar and she smiled proudly, “Better?”

“Much better,” Jamie smiled, stroking her shoulder, “But tis’ still a bit dark.” With those words, Jamie snapped his fingers and a bunch of candles appeared scattered all over the room, “Now I can see ye properly.”

“Show off,” Claire smirked, kissing his lips tenderly and moved her body closer to his. He was a real human furnace.

“Claire?” Jamie’s voice was low and she could hear the sudden worry in his tone, “I feel like I need to ask ye this…”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Will ye go to Boston?” He asked tentatively.

“No, at least not alone. I told you I would never leave you again, Jamie,” Claire took his hand, looking into his eyes, “And I meant it.”

“But tis’ a great opportunity, is it no’?”

“Yes it is but I love my job here anyway and as long as you’re around, I’m alright.”

“I could move wi’ ye to Boston?”

“What about your shop? I can’t ask something like that of you,” Claire sat up a bit – touched by his attention.

“Och, well…”

Claire interrupted him with a kiss and smiled, “We don’t have to decide that just yet.”

“Aye, ye’re right,” Jamie smiled and held her close, “We can stay here a wee bit longer if ye’d like? I can ask Murtagh to take care of the shop for a week or two.”

“I’d like that,” Smiling, Claire stroked his cheek – feeling happy and content.

“Claire?” 

Claire moved a bit to face him and smiled, her curls framing her face, “Wot?”

“I ken tis’ might be soon but I dinna think I can spend the rest of my life wi’out ye, might be here or in Boston, I just want to be by yer side…”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Claire raised her eyebrow and looked at him. She could tell he was nervous, fidgeting with his hands and he looked like the cutest little boy.

Jamie took her hand and looked into her eyes, his heart pounding in his chest, “Will ye marry me one day?”

“I’ll marry you whenever you want, James Fraser. I love you so much,” Claire could see the relief in his eyes and his mouth curling into the broadest grin. Leaning up, she kissed him and held him close.

“And I love ye,” Jamie kissed her once more, “I dinna have a ring but we’ll get you one once we’ll be back in the city,”

“I don’t need an engagement ring, darling. It’s not really my kind of thing.”

“Whatever ye want, mo chridhe,” He smiled, holding her close.

“But, Jamie?” Claire looked at him.

“What is it?” Jamie frowned.

“Do you really want to marry a witch?” She raised her eyebrows, amused.

“Of course I do,” He smirked, kissing her nose, “I just need to know, are ye a good witch or a bad one?”

“Comme ci, comme ça,” Claire answered with a grin, pulling him back in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it’s done! This chapter is the final one and I wanted to thank every single person that read this story and left any kind of feedback, I truly loved writing it and I hope you loved reading it.
> 
> Thank you!


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